


Killer Mid-Terms

by VanessaSQuest



Series: Frequency-verse [9]
Category: Jonny Quest, The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family, Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 20:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17567843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanessaSQuest/pseuds/VanessaSQuest
Summary: Part of the Frequency Timeline, after the events in Frequency. Life was starting to normalize, up until someone opened fire on the school that was...





	Killer Mid-Terms

Killer Mid-Terms by Vanessa S. Quest  
Portland, ME – 1421 EST, 16 December…  
This was not a drill. Midterms were here, and with the final minutes of the school-day ticking down in one of the two most stressful weeks of school life, well maybe three- prom week was also pretty brutal, Jonny was in 8th period AP Art History sweating bullets.  
He was either acing this, or flunking and eating some major crow when his dad finds out.  
His blue-book in hand, he was starting to enter his results into the scan-tron. Over 60 questions populated the test with anything from how a famous artist mixed their paint to identifying the lesser works from a school of art theory and who that work later influenced.  
Eyes back on his scan-tron, he worked quickly to fill in the answers. Saying the class block was 45 minutes, it was brutal. Less than a minute per question, you either knew it or you were guessing, but second guessing was out the window because no one had that kind of time! And while Jonny wasn’t hurting, benefits of being a speed-reader, he was still svelte on time. At least all he had to do with his last 9 minutes was fill in circles.  
With a moment to think, he wondered how Jessie was handling AP Chemistry three doors over, and more-over, the mid-term that made not less than 18 students sob by lunch-time alone.  
He glanced out the window into the courtyard; he’d be able to ask her, himself, in another …7 minutes, according to the clock out there.  
Something moving outside made his hand freeze mid-circle.  
Maybe his brain really had gone numb from all the abuse this mid-term was putting him under—that looked like a flash.  
There was another one.  
Jonny stood up, picked up his scan-tron and walked to the front of the class to his teacher’s desk. He dropped it and leaned to whisper.  
“Mrs. Hanes—listen very closely, we need to brace the door and hit the lights. There’s a shooter in the courtyard.” His eyes were gravely serious. “I’m going to warn the other classes, get everyone below the window, heads down.”  
Mrs. Hanes’s mouth dropped, at first she was about to tell him to sit down, but looking at the teen’s expression she offered a stunned nod.  
Jonny ducked out of the room.  
“Matt, come up here for a minute.” Mrs. Hanes called, Jonny turned to look at one of his closest friends from school- Matt Evans, he and his twin Bobby Evans had been fast friends of Jonny’s after he’d moved to the area. They’d met after Mrs. Evans started on at the Compound as a curator of sorts; she took care of the place while they traveled (extensively) and provided soul-food when they were actually around.  
He swallowed thickly, gave his friend a nod and headed out the door.  
“Oh come on! Even you couldn’t ‘uh finished it that quick!” Matt lamented, Jonny ignored him as he left the room.  
Crouched over, he rushed to the first classroom next-door, “Mr. Piersen! Get everyone down- hit the lights, and brace the door! Someone has a gun.”  
He didn’t give him time to argue, he had five doors before him and the fire-doors. If he could get to those there was a chance he could get them locked and prevent the shooter from coming into the wing.  
Across the hall, he shared the same message with Miss O., several students standing to gawk as they overheard Jonny. He kept on down the line- at Mr. Stevens’ class he barged in to issue the warning. Stevens glared daggers at his least-favorite drop-out.  
“John, what are you doing disrupting my class’s midterm? What? Art not your thing now, either?”  
Jonny watched out the door, he was running low on time. “Mr. Stevens, you HAVE to lock the door and cut the lights—Jess—someone’s got a gun, they’re shooting. I’m serious!”  
With that, he ducked out before the teacher could grab him, and oh he’d reached.  
Vaguely, he heard him soft-swearing and telling him to get the hell back in that room, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He just hoped Jessie would listen to his warning and do what they did best—survive.  
Jonny got through the last two rooms much like the first few, but en-route he picked up a fire extinguisher. He sprayed the hallway so it would reduce visibility. No sense giving this jerk an easy target!  
He could hear more gunshots now, and worse still, they were getting louder. He got to the hall doors in time to hear screams cut short by more gunfire.  
He tucked against the doorframe, with one hand he reached for the chain to pull from the hinge and freeze it in the shut position. He managed to pull the second one shut when he saw motion under the door, instinctively he pressed himself flush against the frame he’d just made stationary.  
Apparently, this was going to go the hard way.  
The door shoved open, a spray of bullets panned down the hall and puckered several lockers as the shooter hoped to hit anyone on their way out as the bell sounded.  
It seemed to dawn on the teenager that the hall was fogged, the barrel whipped right and as it swung left, Jonny swung the butt of the fire extinguisher into his neck with a sickening crack.  
The gun dropped, but the gunshots didn’t halt.  
Blue eyes bulged widely; he hadn’t counted on there being two shooters. His frame was open to the door as he saw the muzzle flash from a solid twenty feet away; he quickly dove behind the solid fire-door.  
Panting, and truly embracing his panic now, he realized an armed gunman knew he was there and that he’d just put down his buddy. He was pulling to reclose the door. He looked at the unconscious kid at his feet. If he didn’t get it closed and locked there were over a hundred students in his wing that would be sitting ducks!  
He felt nauseous as the school bell continued to ring. People were going to start pouring out—they were going to be in the line of fire, visions of his mother, her stomach blooming red over her cotton and linen white and beige outfit flashed in his eyes, only her face was replaced with Amy Learer’s who’s shoes he could see just at the edge of the connecting hallway, twitching.  
Gasping, he shoved at the door, the first gunman was out cold right in the damned center of it. He’d botched that something awful! Race would be disappointed in him for making such a glaring mistake—his mind reeled as seconds stretched for days while minutes collapsed into blinks of the eye. He shoved the door again finally closing it and slid down it as he heard more screams, shouts really—flashes of light, no longer the yellow-white of muzzle-flash, but blues and reds like sirens.  
Come to think of it, he could hear sirens if he focused, but he was having a hard time with that.  
…Oh, now he could hear shrill screams. He winced, that one sounded familiar, his eyes panned toward his left. He was lying on the ground and frankly, he wasn’t sure when he’d gone for cover.  
Matt was freaking out; in the grey-white mist from the fire extinguisher he was kinda surprised his friend had found him so easily. The others were being ushered toward the opposite direction.  
He should get up and evacuate, or at least he thought he should, but he couldn’t make his body cooperate. His adrenal spent, he was crashing—hard. With a shiver, he locked eyes on Matt.  
“Damn it! BAD Bond girl! BAD!” Matt was joking, but the panic in his voice made it seem disingenuous. “You’re supposed to be OKAY…”  
Jonny blinked, wait, he …wasn’t?  
“You need to evacuate—now.” An officer interrupted, pushed Matt toward the rear exit then started pushing on Jonny for good measure.  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
There were buses lined up ready to cart the students away from the school. What would normally be their means home was now diverted to the Portland Elementary School for student-pickup. Students were corralled onto whichever bus they could fit on, announcements proclaiming their parents had been called and would meet them at the secondary location boomed in the chaotic foray.  
Jessie stared blankly searching the crowd, where the hell was he? Did he get on a different bus? She saw TK, and he pulled her onto the bus instead of letting her wait longer for Jonny.  
“Hey! Quit it with the grabby hands!” Jessie shot, “I haven’t seen Jonny—”  
“Just get on the bus!” TK bossed, “I haven’t seen anyone else I know right now either, so tag… we’re it.”  
Jessie rolled her eyes, “TK, where were you compared to the shooting?”  
“I dunno, I heard it from the courtyard, but I didn’t see them…” he was shaking. “But… but I saw the aftermath. We need to get on the bus.” He nodded vigorously to agree with his own argument.  
Jessie’s eyes softened, he looked terrified.  
Luck would have it; they’d pulled onto the bus with Bobby Evans. “BOBBY! Oh thank god…” TK screeched, rushing to one of his best friends.  
“TK… JESS! Have you seen Matt?!” The boy’s eyes sparkled in terror.  
“…I haven’t… did you see Jonny?”  
He shook his head, trembling. The bus door closed.  
“...Maybe they got on a different bus… This one filled up just like that, maybe theirs did too.” Jessie reasoned. She felt sick.  
They all did.  
In shocked stupor, the thousand-some-odd students of Portland High School were anxiously waiting on buses as throngs of parents spilled over the elementary school with dozens of police giving out commands.  
Three buses were unloaded, “MATT!” Bobby screamed, shoving through fifty fellow students upon sight of his brother.  
TK and Jessie tagged close behind the bull-dozer, apparently Bobby really should’ve tried out for football, he was a natural line-backer!  
Matt swayed toward his brother, he was really out of it, even more shell-shocked than everyone else seemed to be, Jessie thought to herself. Sure, she was jittery, but not like everyone around her was.  
Bobby grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug. “Matt! Matt are you okay?!”  
Matt shook his head slowly as if to chase out the cobwebs. “…Huh?”  
“Matt, have you seen Jonny?” Jessie asked; her voice hitched when she saw the blood. “Oh my god—are you bleeding?! Are you hurt?”  
Bobby crushed his brother into him in a vice-like hug. “Matt… talk to me.”  
Matt locked eyes on his older twin brother, then eyed Jessie and TK. He swallowed thickly, “It’s not my blood…”  
Jessie smiled, beamed at the good news, “Thank goodness! But who’s—” her face faulted. “Wait, you’re in Art with Jonny—no, they didn’t get INTO our hallway—”  
Matt’s eyes fell to the ground.  
“Even you wouldn’t skip Mid-Terms!” Jessie argued, though with who, she didn’t know.  
TK put a hand on Jessie’s shoulder. “…Shut up and let him think.” He said in a low whisper, a struggle to speak.  
“Whose blood is it?” Bobby asked gently, prodding him.  
Matt’s eyes went up to his older twin’s again. “I—I saw…” his voice cracked.  
“PANCHITA!”  
Jessie’s head whipped upon hearing her dad. The unnaturally wide smile she had as he was on her, Hadji and Dr. Quest a good ten feet behind as they rushed toward them was a look of utter relief.  
“DAD! Have you seen Jonny?! I haven’t found him!”  
Matt’s voice cracked again, “…It’s his blood.” His hand clutched his mouth. “He was shot.”  
The small group collectively dropped into a shade of grey, all listening to his testimony.  
“Matt—Bobby, TK, come with us.” Race said, looking over his ward’s school friends. He eyed Benton and Hadji, Benton’s edged worry now was a mask of icy stoicism as he waited for more information, critical information. Two officers began calling out names.  
“Learer… Jackson…”  
“…Felds, Quest…”  
“I’m Dr. Quest.” Benton snapped to it, headed toward the officer who’d called him. He could vaguely hear in his drowning ears the news being offered to the Learers and the Jacksons.  
“…We need you to come to the station, we’ll drive you.”  
He steeled himself. His whole body felt like it was cement, he looked at the officer who’d called his name, he doubted he’d ever forget a single minutia about Office Slaughter, an awful name for a police officer!  
“Dr. Quest, Mrs. and Mr. Felds, your children have been taken to Mercy. I’ll drive you over…”  
Dr. Quest collapsed onto his cane, barely keeping to his legs. Oh god, he was alive, oh thank god.  
Race put a hand on the meat of Benton’s arm to keep him bipedal. “Officer, I’ll drive him. Do you know how bad he was hurt?”  
The officer was silent for a long moment before he offered, “...He was the first they took over.” He offered.  
Race flinched internally. They’d triaged him to the front of the line, that wasn’t a good sign at all. He looked at Dr. Quest and Hadji, both seemed to recognize that.  
Hadji grabbed Jessie’s hand and squeezed it painfully tight then relaxed it reflexively as if realizing his strength.  
“Boys, do you need a ride?” Race asked, unsure.  
“Mom’s in Caribou on business.” TK said darkly. “…There’s no way she’ll get here today.”  
Bobby looked at TK, still in physical contact with his younger twin. “…Race, was mom still at the Compound when you got the call?”  
“No, she’d left for the grocery store.”  
He nodded, “The radio in the car’s out. Can we go with? She won’t know where we are.” He looked at his brother, “…Right, Matt? You want to see Jonny’s okay too, don’t you?”  
Matt let out a sob, nodded voicelessly.  
“Alright, then hurry it up.” Race nodded toward the Land Rover.  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
Mercy Hospital was an absolute shit-show. Race noticed there were hundreds of people swarming the Emergency Room entry-way, parents who hadn’t been diverted to the elementary school looking desperately for their kids after hearing over the wire about the shooting.  
Somehow, he’d found somewhere to park, it felt like it was half way to the moon, but he’d managed it.  
“Benton, he’s alive.” He said in a low whisper to the older man, the red-head was running scenarios, each one seeming to be worse than the one before as he literally aged before Race’s eyes.  
Jessie squeaked, “…Dad… Jonny ran to our class to warn us about the shooter… I… I think he did that for the whole hall.”  
Race swallowed thickly, “Panchita… we can figure out what happened once we know he’s going to be okay.”  
The girl nodded.  
Matt cleared his throat, “He… blocked the door, actually. A-and he smoked up the hall, so those assholes couldn’t just shoot fish in a barrel…” He shivered.  
“Matt…” Bobby whispered, hugged him. “Matt, where was he shot?”  
The younger twin curled his arms around his own waist, he felt like ice. “…I couldn’t say. There was a lot of blood. Maybe it was his stomach, but it might’uh been his chest.”  
Race watched Benton’s knuckles grow white as he clenched his fists. TK seemed to pick up on the same thing, as he nudged Bobby and suggestively gave the others a courteous look-round. “Matt, you know as well as everyone else here that Jonny’s bullet-proof. He’s going to be fine. Isn’t that right, Bobby?”  
“Uh… yeah. Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s said so, himself. Secret lab experiments or something… I mean, really, he had to do it to get out of the rest of the midterms…” Bobby suggested, “English Lit’s going to be an actual bear…” He reinforced, “Not a test, just a bear, a chair, and 45 minutes locked in with it.”  
TK nodded empathetically, all four of them were in that class together. That was supposed to be the next, and the last, midterm of the week for each of the boys.  
Inside the ER, the energy was much calmer. The police were keeping the panicked parents at bay for the actual emergencies as they came in over the hysteria of the unaccounted for teenagers.  
One of the officers seemed to recognize Dr. Quest and waved over a nurse, seeming to flag him down.  
“Ah, Dr. Quest?” The 40-something woman asked, she also recognized the world-famous scientist and home-town hero.  
“…Yes, how’s my son?”  
“He’s just finishing surgery now. If you’d come with me, I’ll have his attending come speak with you shortly.”  
Benton nodded, pulled Hadji up and gave Race an apologetic look as he swept his eyes over the four other teenagers.  
“Go, Doc, Hadj, we’ll be in the general waiting area.”  
Hadji nodded, walking to follow the nurse.  
“I am sorry, it’s family only…” The nurse said, glancing at the Indian boy.  
“Hadji is my son, his brother.” Dr. Quest said firmly.  
“Oh, right…” She said as she blanched, embarrassed at her own faux pas. She gestured to a small secluded vestibule.  
Hadji pulled out a seat for his father, and put a trembling hand on his shoulder once he sat down, taking to the chair next to him.  
It was another hour before the surgeon came in to speak with them. Apparently ‘just finishing up’ was code-word for ‘you have way too many people in a busy ER.’  
The surgeon glanced at her chart then back to the people in the room. “Benton Quest, Hadji Singh-Quest?”  
Both men stood to attention.  
She waved them back to their seats. “Please, sit. Jonny’s out of surgery, it’s mostly good news, but not great news.” The woman framed, “Your son was shot in stomach, we were able to remove the intact bullet and the stomach is a very resilient organ which will heal nicely with time. Unfortunately, the bullet did punch through to his spleen but it didn’t cause it to rupture or nick any major blood vessels supplying it. He did lose a substantial volume of blood, but he’s responding well to the transfusion and is recovering from hypovolemic shock. He’s still unconscious, which is a mixed bag—until his blood pressure is more stable we really can’t give him much for the pain so it’s good in that he’s not fully aware, but until he comes to we can’t be certain what the effects of the transient hypoxia will be.”  
“Transient hypoxia…” Benton looked at Hadji.  
“As I said, he lost a substantial volume of blood. His BP and Oxy Sats were in the tank, those are recovering but we’ll need time to know what that will mean for him. But he is young, and children and adolescents have neuroplasticity. Once we have him situated in the PICU, you’ll be able to see him. Let him rest though, he’s going to need it and if he’s asleep he’ll be in a lot less pain.”  
“When will you be able to treat his pain?” Hadji asked the elephant in the room.  
She looked off to the side, “I can’t say just yet. When he came in he was very disoriented, and until we can make an official assessment it would be better to not muddy the waters.”  
“He was awake when he was brought in?” Benton latched on.  
“In and out, yes. Have you spoken with the detectives yet?”  
Hadji shook his head, “No, we have not. Are they here?”  
She smiled, “I’m sure they’ll want to speak with you shortly. To my knowledge, they’ll be at the school for a while longer, though.”  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
Inside the small hospital room, Jonny let out several lengthy groans. Still out cold, and cold to the touch, Benton found—the claim that he’d be in less pain while asleep was becoming a horrific thought given the clear amount of it he was in even now.  
It had been hours of this waiting. It was almost ten at night, thankfully Race had gotten hold of Mrs. Evans, she’d come rushing over and had taken TK, Bobby, and Matt back to the Quest Compound along with Jessie. Race was busying himself with the detectives acting as a liaison, and Hadji and he had been staring anxiously for over 4 hours at Jonny as he lie there, swallowed in gauze, an open pajama top and pajama bottoms acting as his hospital garb.  
“Father, has anyone called Venus yet?” Hadji asked, he felt a wariness in spirit at how unnaturally still his brother was.  
Benton shook his head as if realizing the gap for the first time. Such a strange thing to forget about one of your children, but the split living arrangement often left the girl out of sight, out of mind. “I …don’t know, Race may have.”  
“If I may, I would like to step outside to call her. She should not learn of this through the evening news.”  
“You’re right, Hadji.” For a moment he debated telling Doug, but without viable information that just seemed even more awful. “I’ll make the call. Wait here with your brother, he shouldn’t wake up alone.” He gently clapped Hadji’s shoulder.  
“Yes sir.” Hadji took a hold of his adopted brother’s hand.  
By how he had just started to groan an hour ago, and was doing more and more, they had both been confident he was coming around.  
As Dr. Quest headed out to the lobby, he saw Race still cornering the detectives, absorbing everything he could glean from them – which really wasn’t much. Apparently one of the shooters had survived and there was a real potential for prosecution.  
The one Jonny had apparently beamed in the neck was in surgery at the very same hospital to repair his fractured cervical vertebrae. Internal decapitation couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy, if Race let himself be honest about it. The swelling on the shooter’s spine and brainstem might well even kill him. The only downside to that would be if Jonny would feel like he’d killed someone, and how the boy could go soft-hearted—Race would rather that little bastard pulled through if only for Jonny’s sake and avoid any guilt from that.  
Race caught Benton’s eye. “Doc… is he awake?”  
“No, not yet, you didn’t call Darren or Venus did you?”  
“Ah damn, I didn’t even think to…” Race said in an honest level of disappointment at himself.  
“Neither did I, Hadji reminded me.” He said in equal parts self-condemnation. “Have the officers gotten what they needed…?”  
Race shirked, “They’d like to talk to Jonny when he comes around, but as the nurses have kindly explained, that’s out the window until he’s up to it.”  
The older man smiled at the white-haired ally. He truly was a bodyguard in that action. He felt wary, twenty years older than from this morning alone.  
“Doc, you should have a seat.” Race noticed, he took hold of Benton’s elbow in a way of fraternal concern, or so people would attribute it. Both men were shook from this, Jonny was not ever supposed to be in this kind of position, to be shot and struggling to survive—and what made it worse was that this wasn’t a known threat, or even a targeted threat! He’d simply been a boy. At school. In midterms. Who the hell goes to school thinking they might get shot?!  
The deep creases carved into Benton’s forehead, the wrinkles around his eyes weren’t their same happy crinkle-lines of his genuinely warm smile, now they were haggard reminders of lost youth. His age had more than caught up with him, it was rushing ahead of him now. He looked like he was 60, not in his early-mid-forties.  
“Let me make that call, first. They’ll need to head over, and you know how they are, they might have to make some serious coordination efforts to accommodate that.”  
“Alright,” Race offered.  
The call had been a short one, apparently the information was already out there. He felt like an ass, Darren had asked him if Jonny was alive, wouldn’t let Venus even answer her phone when his number came up. Thankfully he could report, “Yes,” to that, but it was clear Darren was offended by the lack of inclusion, though he did seem willing to overlook it given the circumstances.  
He’d made promises of being there by the morning, but again, would not pass the phone to his daughter. Benton wondered if he’d held it off as a form of punishment for not including her earlier or as a perceived shield to the girl.  
He really hoped Darren wouldn’t co-opt an air of defiance and isolation, he had his preferences which he made abundantly clear… but she still was Dr. Quest’s birth daughter. Whether Darren had full legal custody or not, he knew it was attained under faulty assumptions as to her identity. He shook his head, he didn’t have time to stress about that. Jonny had to be alright, he was alive—and even if it would be a hard road to recovery, he’d make sure his son made it there.  
Benton saw Race heading his way, “Doc—come on, he’s waking up.”  
Ten years of added age seemed to slough off his shoulders at that notion. In hurried steps, both adults were ushering themselves through the nurses and doctors eager to do the assessment. Race always had a knack for crowd-control, steering them through it so gracefully.  
Hadji was all smiles as he watched Jonny’s blue eyes regain focus, blinking back to awake. “Jonny! How do you feel…?”  
The teen groaned, his forehead crinkled as he tried to get his bearings. He didn’t seem fully alert, Benton noted, he touched Hadji’s arm, the older teen stepped back so their father could edge closer.  
Benton pet Jonny’s hand as he took it up in his own.  
“…Uhhh… Dad?” Jonny asked, “…I don’t feel so good…”  
The reflexive smile at hearing his son’s voice had made his whole demeanor radiate a warmth he had felt was missing these last several hours.  
“…Can I stay home tomorrow…? I feel sick…”  
Dr. Quest looked at Race who nodded and stepped out to get one of the doctors in here. He clearly was still disoriented. “What hurts?” He asked gently.  
The sooner they could assess him, the sooner he’d be able to get some much-deserved and needed pain medication.  
“…My head… my stomach… everything. Y’don’t think it’s the flu, do ya…?”  
“No, I don’t think it’s that, Jonny.” He gave his hand a gentle squeeze.  
“…When’d I get to the nurse’s office?” He said groggily, trying to remember. “Did they call you to pick me up…?” He winced as if remembering it had been 8th period, the last class of the day.  
“Don’t worry about that…” Benton seemed to read where Jonny’s mind was going.  
“…I should’uh made it home… I could’uh…” He groaned, “I handed my scan-tron in early… I didn’t finish it!” He started trying to sit up, but stopped himself near instantly. Instead, he wrapped his hand over his sore stomach. “Ow, it hurts…”  
“Okay, let’s see if we can get you some medicine for that.” He said, stepping back to signal the doctor to do what they needed to do.  
Dr. Hall swept a pen-light before Jonny’s eyes, pushing up his eyelids to measure their responses as the teen winced at the contact. He seemed entirely unfazed by the man’s icy cold hands, probably because his skin was still ice, itself.  
“Hi Jonny, my name is Dr. Kenneth Hall, I’ll be your attending doctor. Can you answer some questions for me?”  
“…If it’s not about art history… sure… I’m a bit burnt out on that after my midterm…” Jonny joked weakly, still embarrassed that he probably just crippled his A to a low B by not filling in some stupid CIRCLES. And for what?! A lousy stomach bug?! Once his dad saw how abysmal that grade would be, he’d really be in the dog house. And Bandit didn’t even have a dog house! He’d be homeless.  
“What is 21 times 11?”  
“…231.” Jonny looked at him oddly, that wasn’t a normal question.  
“How many classes do you have this semester?”  
“…Seven.” Jonny answered after thinking. He had a study period, but he also had gym which alternated with shop class.  
“What is another word for happy?”  
“…In what language?”  
The doctor looked at him, unsure of how to proceed with that one.  
“…Oh, you mean like synonyms? Elated… Joyous… Cheery… Jovial...”  
“Do you know today’s date?”  
“Yes.” Jonny answered. Hadji tapped Jonny’s leg as if to tell him to say it. “…It’s the 16th… Of December.”  
“Good. What color do you get when you add red and blue?”  
“…I need more than that, like cadmium blue and rust oxide or…? Or do you mean like color wheel… like ‘purple is a secondary color’?” He looked around as if realizing at long last this wasn’t a nurse’s office. “Did I hit my head? Why are you asking these weird questions? Dad, did something happen?”  
He clutched at his stomach, it hurt something awful. He felt gauze under his fingers. His eyes went wide.  
“Jonny?” Benton took hold of his hand.  
He was panting as if remembering earlier in the day. That’s right—question 43, he wasn’t sure if Van Gogh used Prussian Blue or French Ultramarine for backgrounds, it was clearly not Cobalt blue, that was detail work… he loved that… No, no it had to be French Ultramarine, Prussian blue had those greenish undertones that muddied it up and he switched… he was going to change that and then he’d seen something flash.  
His mouth opened in silent horror. He looked around the room, where was Jessie? He felt like he was busy being ripped in half.  
The doctor put a hand on Jonny’s shoulder, “You’re starting to remember things from earlier today?”  
Jonny nodded dryly.  
“Do you know where you are?”  
He shook his head, “…a hospital… Dad, where’s Jessie? She’s okay, isn’t she?!”  
“Easy there, kiddo. Panchita’s fine. She went back to the house with Matt, Bobby, and TK. Mrs. Evans drove them. The orderlies were towing the line of family only, and Jessie’s not technically… and, well, I charmed my way in.”  
Jonny nodded meekly, not sure he believed that. There’d been a shooter… No! There were two. Race was going to be mad at him… for… for something. Oh god, for what?! Was he hurt and Jessie worse? Was he just being nice while he was recovering…? He felt like he was going to be sick to his stomach, and that thought alone hurt. Everything hurt.  
“Son… take a breath, you look like you’re panicking… are you?” Dr. Quest said, he knew he had to pull him back from that, if he had a panic attack now it was going to do a detriment to some stitches.  
The rapid rise-falls of his chest and upticking staccato on the heart monitor filled in the room.  
“I’m going to give you something to help reel this in.” Dr. Hall announced, he scribed something on Jonny’s chart then took a step outside to fetch a nurse.  
Within seconds, it seemed, two vials and needles were brought in on a tray, Dr. Hall administered both into Jonny’s line.  
Not long after the first shot he felt heavy, too heavy to feel fretted, or to think too clearly for that matter. The cotton gauze on the outside made its way inside, into his brain. But everything still ached until the second injection kicked in, and then he just felt tired. Numb, certainly, too.  
“Jonny, you know you’re in a hospital now? You’re safe. It’s over.” Race said sympathetically.  
“…How many?” Jonny asked mutely.  
“How many what, Jonny?” Hadji queried. He wasn’t sure if the softness in his voice was from pain relief or shock, but he didn’t like it.  
“How many died?” He dared darkly.  
Benton squeezed his hand. “I’ve heard of 4. A hall monitor, two students, and one of the shooters.”  
Jonny shivered, he felt chilled to the bone. He wanted to curl up and wake up from this nightmare.  
“Amy Learer… she’s dead, isn’t she?” Jonny asked, he looked at Race with dulled eyes. “I saw her shoes, she was twitching when I was trying to force the second fire-door shut.”  
“She is, she and Peter Jackson were the two students who died. I didn’t hear the name of the hall monitor.”  
“How many people were injured?”  
Race took a round of the rapid-fire questions, “A lot less thanks to you, Jonny. They came in through the side door you’d cut through from the soccer fields, a few kids were putting up posters for something during their study hall.”  
“…How many?”  
“…Three, including yourself. Both Felds kids were hurt, Cherie got it a little worse than her older brother, she got hit bad in the leg, he got a graze to the arm, they were at the far end of the hall.”  
Jonny looked down, from his position at the door, he’d seen when the one shooter had saw motion. He’d had complete tunnel vision when it had happened. It was all so fast… he felt nauseous. “…They didn’t get in?”  
Race motioned a shoulder-shrug. “No, they didn’t. You kept them outta yer wing, kiddo.”  
“…I remember Matt was talkin’ to me… about something…” He said after a long while, remembering the pieces in a jumbled order. It didn’t make sense, he knew that but still couldn’t shoehorn it into what happened.  
He felt too tired to try anymore.  
“…” Spent, he leaned his head toward the side of the pillow, eyelashes falling quickly.  
“Get some sleep. We’ll be back soon.” Benton promised his son, not saying that he, personally, would be back just after he fell asleep.  
Jonny gave a faint nod as he kept drifting further off.  
Just outside the room, Dr. Quest asked, “Race, could you take Hadji home? See if TK has been in touch with his mother yet? And his father for that matter…” As he considered that, he knew he had to make some calls of his own. “If you’ll give me about fifteen minutes before you head off, I’d like to make some calls. I’d prefer he has company.”  
Race nodded, security-wise, while there wasn’t an active threat, the blond would definitely be prone to one if an opportunist were to arise. Though, he wouldn’t be keen on having him alone strictly as a means of preference. He’d been through enough, and he wasn’t really the kind of person to thrive in solitude.  
There was no denying that their attention was divided, though. He needed to check in with his daughter as well. At first it hadn’t seemed to fully hit as to what happened, but by time she realized Jonny had been hurt- severely hurt- it stopped being some adventure and turned sharply into the reality that people died. People she knew, and for reasons she did not. Her best friend was in a hospital bed, and they still didn’t know he’d woken up.  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
Outside of the hospital, Benton called Doug, he wanted to get that unpleasant chore out of the way so he could do the equally Herculean task of trying to actually speak with his daughter.  
Doug answered on the first ring. “I saw the news—tell me, how is he?!”  
Well, that had backfired.  
“I’m sorry you saw it before I could reach you. He’s in the hospital, he woke up for a little, but he’s resting now. Doug, he’ll pull through.”  
The old goat bellowed out a long sigh of relief. “On the news, he’s practically been sainted. Thank goodness he made it…”  
Benton rubbed his forehead, “…The news? I’m sorry, we’ve been in the hospital since we found out he was taken here, I don’t know what’s going on…?”  
“Don’t I know it!” Doug spat much less hostilely than he normally would’ve, “They said he blocked the doorway from those snot-nosed punks and prevented them from gettin’ to about 200 kids.”  
“199. They got to him.” He said back, sharply, there was no reason for him to lash out at Doug, he knew that but at the same time he was furious his son had been hurt. And for him to have been shot, and in the torso… images he did not want to see kept repeating behind his eyes as he blinked, and damn it all if it weren’t a sick joke.  
“How bad was he hurt?” The vulnerability he heard in that ask shook him.  
“…He… was shot in the stomach. He had to have a transfusion, he’s still fairly out of it, which is frankly probably more of a blessing. I don’t think it’s fully hit him yet… but I’m not certain.”  
“When will they let him outta the hospital?”  
“Jesus, Doug, he just woke up… I didn’t ask that yet. Hell, I haven’t even been able to talk to Venus yet…” His voice dropped, “Damn it… Doug, I will call soon with an update, but I do need to call her, especially if this is all over the news already, and then I need to get back inside with him.”  
“…Alright. Do that. Tell him grandpa loves him to pieces and knows he’ll be back on the saddle in no time.”  
Benton rolled his eyes but kept his tone neutral, “I’ll tell him you’re sending your regards. I’ll call you tomorrow.” They both hung up.  
As he dialed his daughter’s cellphone number, he saw several news vans, the damned vultures were filming the outside of the ER going on about the latest tragedy. He could hear them talking about who he assumed to be the surviving shooter, practically building the schmuck’s defense for him.  
The phone picked up, “You have an update?”  
He clucked his tongue in disappointment, it was Darren, again. “I do, but I’d respectfully like to talk to my daughter.”  
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, so you might want to shift your expectations accordingly,” Came the vitriolic bravado of an over-protective papa-bear. At least they could relate on that.  
“Why are you preventing me from speaking to her?” He asked pointedly.  
“You can’t be that thick… she heard about this bullshit on the news. Do you know how inaccurate they are?! Well she sure as shit doesn’t right now, so she thinks he’s…” he lowered his voice, “she’s very upset, and I don’t think she could take a bad curveball so you bet your ass I’m screening her messages.”  
“…” Benton swallowed back his own barbs, he recognized Darren’s behavior as the same way he’d been acting with Jonny, though he had sworn to always give the boy honest answers on hard questions- as much as he was loath to tell him the details they’d eked out, he had shared a distilled version that he thought the boy could take. “I was calling her to tell her he woke up. Not for a long time, he’s sleeping now, but he did wake up.”  
“Shit… finally,” Darren breathed his own sigh of relief. “And how was he? Was he talking, did he have his wits to him?”  
“…Mostly. He’s digesting a lot of what happened. When will you both be here?”  
“Tomorrow, bright and early, how’re the others holding up?”  
“We’re all in the same boat, a lot of information and none of it is good enough or about what we need to know. Jessie wasn’t hurt, if that’s what you mean.”  
“How much have you heard from the news circuits, anyway? Or the cops, for that matter…?”  
“…I heard second-hand that Jonny barricaded the fire-door and kept the shooters out of their wing.” Benton said in a stolid tone.  
“Yeah? Did you hear how he clobbered the gunman that lived? He knocked the son of a bitch out cold with a fire extinguisher. Did you know they have closed-circuit cameras and some parasitic piece of shit decided to leak it to the press? And did you know that my daughter saw him take one round to the stomach and keep a hold on the door anyway?”  
“…What?” His breathy gasp told Darren he hadn’t heard, not at all.  
“Yeah.” His huffy tone softened a little, “She saw the news report about the shooting at their high school and began digging for more substantial information about who got hurt and who was killed, she found some shitty local news outlet that decided to upload it online. I got Alex to brick their site, and he may or may not have deleted all versions of that file from their servers. Journalistic integrity is supposed to mean something. This sensationalizing it bullshit is only going to encourage copy-cats who want the fucking attention.”  
“…There’s footage of what happened?” He said in disbelief, he felt sick.  
“Oh no you don’t, Pandora. You don’t need to go looking through that rubbish. He did several brave things and the right things to prevent a lot of other people from getting hurt or killed. That put him front and center of a shit-storm. If he’d done nothing that was still the direction the gunmen were headed in. But man, did he think on his feet… that’s something to be proud of, and I’ll tell him so much tomorrow. Shit, the one thing those vultures in the press are getting right is that he’s a real hero.”  
He took a steadying breath. “When did the news break?”  
“…A little after 3PM,” Darren offered.  
“They knew just after it happened?” Dr. Quest asked, stunned.  
“Shit, they probably knew about it when the dispatcher put the call on the wire.” There was a long pause as Darren muffled the phone, “Listen, I gotta go, we’ll talk more tomorrow. –Yeah, sweetheart? I’ll be right over.”  
The line disconnected.  
Dr. Quest took a step backward to lean against the wall. He stepped back through the side door and started his daunting walk back to the PICU. He needed to talk to Race before he left.  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
0700 EST, 17 December  
With an uncanny shade of petulance in Jonny’s blue eyes, the teen looked at an orderly in an uncharacteristically querulous manner.  
It hadn’t helped that the orderly had jarred him when changing out the drainage bag to Jonny’s catheter. What also hadn’t helped the blond’s mood any was that his pain meds had worn off hours ago.  
“Don’t be like that, it wasn’t on purpose…” the orderly said, trying to get the teen to stop doing an impressively accurate impersonation of a jilted cobra.  
Benton put a hand on Jonny’s shoulder to try to take his mind off the task at hand. “Do you know when the nurses will come back through for rounds?”  
The blond’s body shook under his father’s hand as it thrummed in pain. He wasn’t saying it, but Benton knew his son, he was too proud to let pain get the better of him, but he was in anguish.  
“They’ve already started morning rounds, it won’t be too much longer.” The man offered.  
“Is Dr. Hall still here? He gave my son something last night for the pain.”  
“…I don’t know, I can go check once I finish up here.” The orderly offered, though insincere.  
Benton wondered about the man’s affect, he didn’t seem well-suited for the role. Jonny merely groaned and turned his head to the side, he was beyond riled. The necessity of the catheter probably hadn’t made this any easier, and while Jonny hadn’t said as much, his pink ears spoke volumes as to how mortified Jonny was that someone had to change out a bag.  
“The others will be here later…” Benton offered to distract the teen from his own humiliation.  
The pathetic look his miffed son graced him with made Benton smile begrudgingly. His happy-go-lucky son was very rarely cranky, but right now that was exactly what he was.  
“Did they cancel school today?” Jonny asked sullenly.  
“They did. School will be closed until after New Year’s.” Benton traced his fingers up and down Jonny’s arm rhythmically.  
“…What about midterms?” Came the sulky rebuttal.  
“They’ll resume those in mid-January, if they decide to have them, I’d imagine.”  
“…” Jonny frowned, “When can I go home?”  
His dad’s eyebrows shot up at that, apparently he wasn’t supposed to ask that, though why Dr. Quest didn’t think his son, who was loath to sit still for any period of time and doubly-so hated being in a hospital, would ask about when he could leave.  
“Jonny, you need to heal. When the doctors think you’re recovered enough to go home, then you’ll be able to leave.”  
“Why do they care if I’m here? It’s not like I’m on pain medication.” He fumed, a friendly reminder that he should be.  
Benton was smart enough not to get on his son’s case for being too much of a grouch. Another orderly came in, this one carted in a milk-crate filled to the brim.  
Jonny’s eyebrow arched as his eyes narrowed to slits.  
“Mail call!” Came the cheery voice in some sing-song melody. The blond rolled his eyes as if he’d expected this to happen somehow. Darkly, Benton realized his son had gotten these sorts of cards on rare occasion, usually from dignitaries though, and never in a past-capacity milk-crate.  
The orderly came close to Jonny and took out a pile of cards. “These are for you…”  
“I’ll handle those, if you don’t mind.” Dr. Quest offered diplomatically before his son could snap at another staffer.  
“Where would you like the flowers and balloons?” She smiled.  
Jonny palled at the thought. “The trash.”  
“He’s kidding.” Dr. Quest said in a kind warning, “Wherever it won’t be in the way.”  
“They wouldn’t be in the way in the trash.” Jonny offered.  
“Oh, you!” the orderly beamed. She brought in a handful of balloons and affixed them to the rail beside Jonny.  
Flowers, candies, chocolates, and a plethora of stuffed animals filled the counter across from the bed.  
Jonny tried to slide lower, he didn’t want to see these trinkets, and the sheer volume of them was sickening. His mood only improved when his attending nurse gave him a booster of pain killers.  
By 9AM, even more mail had rolled through. The room was quickly being crowded out by flowers and stuffed animals.  
As Race walked in with the kids, the radiant heat of rage Jonny was emitting should’ve been enough to as least wilt the flowers or melt the chocolates.  
“Morning kiddo… wow, some fan-fare.” He noted, giving Dr. Quest a knowing look.  
“It’s coming in droves.” He offered back.  
“Kiddo, I could take some of this back to the house… get the clutter down.”  
Jonny wouldn’t make eye contact, Race wondered what that was about, it was almost like he felt self-conscious about something. “Whatever…”  
“Jonny!” TK and Bobby sprang, both far too eager.  
“Oh man, are we glad you’re okay! See, Matt—I told you our Bond Girl was immune to lead!”  
Jonny’s eyes scanned toward the bubbly, hyper voices of his school friends as they populated the space between flowers, trinkets, and brightly colored stuffed bears.  
“You know, there’s way easier ways to get out of a midterm.” Bobby bantered. “And giving Ms. Labinski extra time to write it just seems like asking for trouble.”  
The blond dropped his eyes then found Jessie’s.  
“Jonny you scared me half to death!” She smiled brightly, she launched toward him into a hug. Race just missed catching her to prevent the contact, but she dodged at just the right time. Carefully, she hugged around his shoulders and then ruffled his hair relentlessly.  
He looked at the foot of his hospital bed. “…Are you okay?”  
“Yeah! Jonny, you saved everyone in our wing. Well, except yourself. Really bad form,” she crossed her arms in mock-disappointment, she smiled again so elated he seemed okay. “You didn’t stick your landing! Man, that clumsiness of yours…”  
“Panchita…” Race chastised.  
Hadji took hold of Jonny’s hand and gave it a tender squeeze. “How do you feel, Jonny?”  
The teen’s lips furled as his eyes shone wetly. “…” He swallowed thickly, not sure he could form the words if he tried.  
Hadji held his gaze. “I see… you have not had time to take stock yet. Let us forgo that answer for now.” Hadji smiled tranquilly. His brother gave a weak nod then let his eyes find Matt who’d yet to say a word.  
“…Matt?”  
“…Matt’s been pretty quiet.” Bobby offered. He pushed Matt closer to his friend.  
Race eyed the younger half of the ‘Olsen twins,’ knowing what he’d seen, he wondered if the kid was going through what Jonny had at 6.  
“…Y-yeah.” Matt choked out. “I thought you were gonna call it quits, man…”  
Jonny looked at his friends, so glad to actually see them, to know they’d made it out of that hellscape. He remembered Amy Learer’s shoes, he started to cry, his body felt too heavy to bring his hands to his face to at least hide the sight.  
Dr. Quest put a strong hand over Jonny’s shoulder. “Son, let it out…” he coaxed.  
“Who did it? Why did they do it?!” Jonny’s voice squeaked.  
The room fell quiet, TK was the first to chime in. “You don’t need to know who those jerks were, Jonny. They aren’t worth knowing. Their reason is equally as unimportant. They’re cowards not worth your time.”  
“Hey! Don’t insult cowards as a whole with those pieces of trash. I’ll have you know I’m a complete coward and still far more worth-while to know than those losers.” Bobby responded.  
“...” Jonny looked back and forth between his three school friends, then at Jessie and Hadji, “…I… I saw Amy Learer… after she was shot… why would someone shoot her? I don’t understand why anyone would hurt her… she was so nice to everyone.”  
The steady stream of tears kept pouring down his face.  
“You know directly that bad things happen to good people regularly, Jonny.” Hadji offered solemnly. “If they did not, you would never have experienced those that have visited you.”  
“…Boys, I’m glad you could stop in, but Jonny really should get some more rest.” Dr. Quest offered.  
“…Right…” TK offered, “Jonny, we’ll be back later to visit again.”  
The teen gave a slight head bob to acknowledge the promise, trying to stop the flow of tears and snot with a sniffle. “S-see you…”  
Matt walked up to the hospital bed and grabbed hold of Jonny’s hand. “You know it. You’re our Bond Chick, and don’t you forget it!”  
That earned him an ugly laugh and a more earnest nod. “I’d never.”  
“Alright, mom’s probably about ready to pick us up. Jonny, see you soon—so start feeling better!” Bobby said with a smile.  
After the three boys headed out, Benton pulled up a chair and helped dry Jonny’s face. “Did you want to rest for a while?”  
The teen shook his head, “…is sis coming? No one’s said…”  
His dad gave him a soft smile, “Of course she is. I’d imagine she and Darren are looking for the perfect get well soon gift.”  
“…If it’s a giant stuffed rabbit, she’s keeping it in her room.”  
Benton smiled, “You think they’d go that route? I think they’d be more pragmatic.”  
Jonny frowned, “So a giant stuffed rabbit that’s bullet proof?”  
That earned him a room full of smirks and smiles.  
“I could see her trying to make you a bunny tank.” Race quipped.  
“…My vote’s on a Kevlar vest.” Jessie offered.  
“If it is, I’m keeping it.” Jonny responded, tiredly.  
Hadji stepped behind Jessie, wrapping her in a hug as he watched Jonny try to keep from drifting to sleep and fail.  
“Doc, why don’t we head to the cafeteria, you could use some coffee. Kids, you don’t mind waiting in here with Jonny do you?”  
“No problem at all.” Jessie bade, looking at her dad. The two kids took sentinel in the chairs flanking Jonny’s bed as he snored.  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
In the small cafeteria, Benton sucked down two cups of whatever the poor hospital staff considered coffee. It was bitter and burnt, which was about how he felt.  
Race put a hand on his shoulder. “How are you holding up, Benton? Did you get any sleep in last night?”  
The redhead nodded, “Not enough, but a few solid hours. How were the kids?”  
“Pretty shaken up, but they’re managing. Mrs. Evans said Matt was pretty out of it yesterday.”  
“We all were.” Dr. Quest said soberly. “Venus somehow saw the footage of the shooting online. Darren’s livid.”  
“Footage? Of what— the gunmen?”  
“Apparently the camera angled toward the fire-doors. She saw him get shot. Someone published that image – of my child getting shot. I have the mind to sue them.”  
“How in sam-hill would they have even gotten that?” Race sputtered.  
Benton shirked up a shoulder. “I’m more concerned with why they felt compelled to post it. My son is entitled to privacy, it’s not that uncommon a notion!”  
“Well, that explains some of the press buzzing outside the hospital. The coverage hasn’t stopped. Like they don’t have anything better to report on…”  
Benton blew out a lengthy sigh. “Then we absolutely have to make sure Jonny stays shielded from that. And on that note, all this mail… we’ll have to screen it. You know how those whack-jobs can get.”  
Race nodded. “We could ask the nurses to distribute all the flowers across the ward, too. The kid hates that kind of stuff… reminds him of funerals.” He saw Benton rub his eyes. Clearly they’d both had the same thought.  
“And the chocolates and fruit baskets—perfect reminders of being shot in the stomach and taking food through the crook of his arm.”  
“Alright, I’ll talk to the nurses, we can get that down some. And maybe that’ll help him relax a bit more.”  
“Indeed, I hope so. It’s a touching sentiment from his class-mates and the community, but he didn’t ask for that. He just needs time to recover in peace.”  
“Well, we have a game-plan. Have you gotten a chance to speak to Dr. Hall? Get an idea of how long Jonny needs to be here for?”  
“…No, but I’ll put that on my ever-expanding list.”  
“Not to add to it… but, you know the detectives are going to need to talk to him soon, too.”  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
Back inside the PICU, Jonny awoke with a start, sweat beaded his forehead.  
“Jonny, are you awake? You were having a nightmare.” Jessie offered softly. “You were yelling.”  
The blond’s eyes scanned the room, looking for the second shooter, instead he found Race hovering in the doorway.  
“Easy there, kiddo…” Race headed to his side. “Jess is right, you’re having a dream. Probably a flashback…”  
“Race…?”  
“Yeah, I’m right here. And yer dad’s just down the hall, talkin’ with the detectives investigating this.”  
“…Race, don’t be mad at me…?” His voice was small, terrified as if Race would be.  
“Jonny, I’m not, why would you think I would be?”  
He let out a shaky breath, looked at Jessie and Hadji. If he was going to get in trouble, he’d rather they not be around for it this time.  
Race’s doe-brown eyes gave both the kids the notice to vacate look. They pushed up, “Jonny, we shall be back shortly. Do not worry, we will not be far.”  
Jonny gave a weak nod back to his older brother, glad to have the reassurance.  
“We might stop by the comic book shop when we head out today. Do you want us to pick up your usual?” Jessie asked, referring to one of her best friend’s lesser known interests in indy comics.  
“…I guess… if dad’s on-board with that.”  
Jessie gave Hadji a look, both found it odd that Jonny seemed so down. Sure, they expected he’d be bummed about being in the hospital, that was a given, but he was acting like he was looking down the muzzle of a major grounding. It didn’t make sense.  
“Yeah, we’ll run it by him.” Jessie offered, already knowing they wouldn’t.  
Once they were safely down the hall, Race pulled up a chair so he was sitting directly in Jonny’s line of sight.  
“Okay, what’s got you so antsy, kiddo?”  
The boy swallowed thickly. It was just like ripping off a band aid, it was just easier to get it over in one clean tug. “…I messed up. I didn’t realize there were two of them.”  
“…Say again?” Race looked at the boy as if he’d sprouted an extra eye.  
“That’s why I left myself open… and I got hurt. It was stupid… I should’ve been fine…”  
“Kiddo, you think I’d be mad at you for getting shot? In a fire-fight?”  
The boy looked at him with a sincerely bewildered expression, “I couldn’t just leave everyone exposed…”  
“Jonny, I know why you did what you did… and took the risks you took. And neither yer dad NOR I are mad about it. You scared us, but kid, I’ve known yer hard-coded for heroics since you came to here on me.” He gestured to his thigh right around the three-foot mark. “Nah, no one’s mad at you. And fretting about the grades… and don’t tell yer dad I said it, but you don’t need to worry about it. If you really did bomb on any of yer tests that’s hardly the concern right now. What matters is you get better and soon. So stop focusin’ on all this knick-knack stress, an’ maybe that’s not fair ta say, maybe yer doin’ that to vent the steam about what’s really stressin’ you out, but I’m here. We all are, and all of us’ll give a listen whenever yer feelin’ up to talking about it.”  
Jonny nodded, the look of consternation in his eyes. “But I just feel like I should’ve done more…”  
“That’s survivor’s guilt, kiddo. You know that.”  
The blond’s lips trembled into an open-mouthed frown. “B-but…”  
Race took up Jonny’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “I mean it. Yer an empathetic guy, makes you real easy to talk to and like, but ya take on a lot of emotion from around you. So take a look at all this chintzy stuff. The sentiment behind it ain’t, that’s genuine… but people don’t know how to express that, so they do what they think conveys how grateful they are that you pulled through and helped them, and unfortunately it looks like a 3 year old’s birthday party.”  
“But people died… if… if I’d…”  
“What more could you’uh really done, Jonny? Realistically?”  
“I just keep seeing her… Amy, except it’s not just her… its mom too…” his voice broke as his shoulders shook. “…And this is what it feels like to get shot… its awful… it’s an awful way to die…”  
Race watched his whole body pick up a tremor.  
“No argument there.” Race said in a soothing voice. “And you stopped any of some 180-odd students and 6 teachers from havin’ ta also find that out.”  
Race smoothed down the teen’s bangs. “Let me get yer dad Jonny.”  
Jonny frowned, still shaking.  
“I’ll be right back, I’m just stickin’ my head out the door.”  
The boy gave a stiff nod, looked toward the mylar balloons. He hated seeing his reflection in it. He didn’t want to see himself. See how he lived and 3 other people didn’t.  
He wanted to know how the Felds siblings were doing. Were they both in the hospital still?  
Benton approached his son, he coupled up his hands. “Jonny, what’s this?” He asked in an indulgent tone.  
“Are Cherie and Charlie doing okay?” Jonny sobbed out.  
Benton winced. He really hadn’t wanted to tell Jonny that painful news yet.  
Jonny’s eyes focused on his as he caught the change in his dad’s demeanor. “…Cherie lost her leg. Charlie is recovering nicely though.”  
“She lost her leg?” His voice hitched. “She’s only 13!”  
Benton squeezed his son’s hand, watching him process the bad news.  
“…Why isn’t Venus here yet? Really?”  
He floundered on that response, “…I… I don’t know. Darren said they’d get here early… but he also said your sister was very upset about what happened to you. It might be too overwhelming for her to just walk in.”  
“So I hurt her too?”  
“No! No, you did nothing of the sort! …She hurt herself… she found the surveillance footage and watched it. You know how she gets around blood, and she saw you get shot.”  
Jonny averted his eyes. That sounded an awful lot like he’d hurt her.  
There was a hemming sound of indignation at the door.  
“And how exactly do I get around that?” She crossed her arms tetchily, flicked out her one hand to examine her nails. “It’s more about my blood, thank-you-very-much.”  
The girl shot Race a look to evacuate, if it would also work on their dad, she’d have tried it, but knew it wouldn’t. Apparently stubbornness really was genetic.  
“Sis!” Jonny tried to sit up but quickly abandoned it as pain shot through his center, he winced his eyes shut and ground his teeth.  
“Jonny—you look like you’re in a lot of pain still. Aren’t they giving you the good stuff?” She asked, approaching her brother, she knew empirically how even the good-stuff wasn’t really enough when you were in that kind of pain, she smiled softly. “Sorry it took us so long to get here.”  
She looked over the way at all the trinkets loaded up on the counter space. “Oh-ho, standard fare of hero treatment going on, I see.” She approached the crate filled with cards and drew out a pile of the unopened envelopes.  
Jonny watched his sister with tired eyes. For once, they were the same level of pallor. He could tell she was fidgeting more than her usual, she’d already opened four cards, scan-reading as she went, a pleasant smile static on her lips.  
“Dad’s miffed he had to park in the boonies, the parking lot’s swimming with cameramen and reporters just hoping to get someone on a hot mike.”  
He watched her sort the cards, now through a good fifteen.  
“…Catch who?”  
“Anyone, really. A cop, a nurse, a doctor- a parent… Anything that sells, which frankly, is anyone with some skin in the game.” She waved a card pointedly as she explained like a key-note speaker, “See, the trick is to keep it off their radar… helps you avoid this whole circus of cluster-fuckery.”  
“…Huh?” her brother asked, not following her as she ranted.  
“These assholes are currently hypothesizing the shit outta why those twerps snapped. You want to know why? Of course you do, its market psychology. Everyone wants to know a motive, everyone has one, too… or that’s what they sell you. Let me just say, as a person who’s seen a thing or two in the criminal justice sphere, sometimes that motivation for it is ‘I hate purple,’ or ‘I was hangry,’ or any number of stupid non-reasons. The only real reason is they’re attention-grubbing assholes who felt too self-important to kill themselves without a large audience. That one little shit who lived better get charged with terrorism and then get thrown in some no-name hole.”  
“What is his name? I haven’t heard it yet—”  
“Good! No one should. It’s not important. He’s not important.” She waved another letter, she gave an even brighter TV-worthy grin, “Bold showing on your behalf… going for Prom King for the next 5 years…”  
“…Huh?”  
Venus flashed pearly teeth in her toothy smile, she leaned toward him in a playful manner, “Jonny, you just became the most popular kid in your school. And you’ll be accepted to any college you choose even if you just phone it in completely for the next two and a half years. Bonus, any diplomatic posting you might want, they now know just how well you handle pressure. I know that’s crass to monetize on this sort of thing, and I know exactly how much torso wounds suck… believe me, it’s adorbs that we’re doing matchy-match now too though, what with our cutesy chiral scars. This was your way of paying me back for scaring the crap outta you on Halloween, wasn’t it?” She pitched, tone cloying.  
“Venus?” Jonny’s voice lilted, he couldn’t keep up with her train of thought veering all over the place. He could tell she was way more upset than she was trying to let on, that he at least picked up on.  
“…But we’re squaresies now, right? Promise you’re okay?”  
He gulped, he felt even worse for her having to say it. “Hey… yeah. I’ll be okay.” He offered; he looked at his dad who seemed to just be absorbing the atmosphere. “C’mere and give me a hug? I can’t exactly get up right now.”  
The teen girl moved the mylar balloons to throw her arms across his shoulders and give him a hug, he could feel tears wick into his shoulder as her grip tightened.  
“I promise… I wasn’t trying to make you cry. I’m not a mean brother.”  
Venus nodded trying to regain her composure, “I know you’re not! You’re a great brother.”  
“…You were sorting the letters… how did you sort them?”  
The girl shook her head, refusing any conversation until her hug quota was met. After another two minutes she pulled back, offered another smile.  
“…Into parents of … kids in… and community members at large. Well, the teachers went into the kids in pile. There’s going to be even more tomorrow, and the day after.”  
“Oh, you have a calculation for it?” Jonny smiled as he teased her. Knowing her, she might, though.  
“No, but that’s how it went when I’ve been in similar situations. You get a few cranks, but that usually starts around day 5 or 6, when the mail starts bringing them in.”  
“…” Jonny blinked, “What do you mean similar?”  
“If you want to avoid fan-mail, keep off cameras. It’s a general rule.” She non-answered.  
He winced as he tried to sit up a little more to look at the sorted cards.  
“Son, you should probably try to get some sleep. Your sister’s not about to head home after just getting here.”  
“…Yes sir.” Jonny said sleepily, he did feel exhausted, that was for certain. “Venus, thanks for coming up.”  
“Don’t mention it. But you’re not off the hook for our xmas celebration, if we have to water that tree for two extra weeks so be it, but you’ll have xmas with us at our place, even if it is late.”  
Jonny nodded, “Okay, deal.” The teen boy closed his eyes.  
After another several minutes he’d clocked out.  
While his sister’s fidgeting came to shuffling the cards more and more, Dr. Quest approached her cautiously. “…You’re stimming.”  
“No! Really? I hadn’t noticed.”  
“Where’s Darren?”  
Venus gave a dark sneer. “Making sure some people have a very bad day.”  
“…And who’s that?”  
“The people who leaked the video online, he’s going full Patriot Act on them; scaring the absolute balls off them.” Venus nodded in satisfaction, she let her expression fall back to a muted smile consciously. “It took him a little while to track the leakers and the original poster. He wouldn’t let me help.”  
Benton could imagine why, though he wondered if Darren was actually planning to do anything beyond scaring the hell out of them.  
“He knows they upset me. It’s better if he doesn’t have me there when he deals with that, it’ll help him keep his cool when he brings the fire. Though, all it did was make it easier for me to find the footage. If the cops uploaded it into a digital evidence locker, I’d have had it in a few days.”  
“…Venus.”  
“What?! I’m a snoop. Everyone knows it who knows me.”  
“Venus, how are you?” He asked patiently.  
The girl glowered, “About as good as you, Race, Jessie, or Hadji are. Except, I’m probably more committed to sneaking into that piece of shit’s hospital room and pulling out his IVs for pain meds and smothering him.”  
He shot her a strict look of rebuke. “Young lady, don’t even joke about that. That won’t make your brother feel better.”  
“No? It sure would make me feel better though!”  
“When is Darren due in?” He chose to ignore her theatrics.  
“…Soon, another 45 minutes ought to do it, probably.” Her eyes began to water again as she looked at the gauze-covered body on the hospital bed. His pajama top still unbuttoned and wide open, blankets came half-way up his abdomen leaving his stomach to only be covered in that dreaded white gauze. Venus pulled her small carrier pouch purse to her front.  
Benton truly hoped she hadn’t brought a pistol into the hospital, but had a strong inkling that she, much like Race, always had at least one on her.  
“What are you looking for?” He asked as she dug through her purse, more and more frustrated and more and more clumsily as her anxiety flared.  
“…A few things, ah fuck it.”  
“Language, please Venus…” Benton murmured, talking about uphill battles and lectures, his lecture series on no heroics for Jonny was often ignored but at least he tried to minimize his own exposure, with Venus the lecture series on audience and attitude—and the girl had yet to ever actually mitigate. Darren had been right, the only one who really could discipline or even criticize her effectively was he.  
Venus blew out an annoyed breath, thinking on the stupid rule that she’d never signed on for, she dumped the contents of her purse, or at least some, she finally was able to tug out the wax-paper bag folded neatly. She also picked up eye drops and a kerchief before shoving enough mass into her purse to reach fusion.  
But he didn’t see a hand gun.  
Venus unfolded the bag carefully and walked to the foot of the hospital bed.  
“Venus, why don’t you try to talk about this? I know this is very hard on you, it’s hard on me too, seeing your brother hurt like this.”  
Her shoulders shook, she peeled back the blankets from the hospital bed. “Do you know just how cold you get when you’ve lost that much blood? It’s freezing, I had to find some cozy wool socks so he’d be a little warmer…” She justified as she pulled on the blue and grey extra-thick woolen socks. She then pulled the blanket back over and gently tucked it back in to look neat.  
She proceeded to take up her kerchief and dab at her face, then moved on to the eye-drops to make her crying spell far less obvious.  
Benton worried about that level of visual control, he knew his daughter was particular about appearance, not as an act of vanity but in a form of self-control that could easily go overboard—and frequently had.  
The girl tucked the supplies neatly back into the top of her purse, organizing it as she sat down and went through more cards, an unnatural smile still ever-present.  
Dr. Quest sat in the adjacent chair and took up some of the cards himself to work through.  
“…There’s been two …jerks so far.” She catered. The little fuck-wads were pissy that her brother hadn’t been efficient enough when he’d hit the one shooter, letting the trash live by knocking him out but not killing him. Redirecting their anger at Jonny instead of the shooter and the loss of close friends, Venus understood it but also knew how hurtful that would be for her brother.  
Even she knew he was sensitive, that kind of criticism, the unrealistic expectations of strangers, Venus could blatantly and categorically ignore. The unrealistic expectations of herself or her loved ones, not so much something she could personally bypass.  
They got through the milk-crate after about an hour, only having to filter out 5 cards.  
Venus took her hair and tied it into a bun, glanced at the door and called out. “Are you coming in now?”  
Darren gave a smile and a wave, “He looks like he’s still asleep. I’ll grab us some drinks and be right back. Benton, would ya take a coffee?”  
“Yes please.”  
“Alright, I’ll pick up two coffees and one cocoa.”  
“I’d avoid the cafeteria, if you can. It competes with Venus’s blend.” Benton warned casually, they all knew just how awfully she made coffee. It was legendary.  
“Yeah… a hospital this size usually has one or two pop-up cafés around.”  
With a strict nod, Darren headed out to procure the drinks and give Benton and Venus some time to just talk.  
He hadn’t wanted to block that before per se, but after finding her bawling her eyes out and in a full-blown anxiety attack, chest pain and all, he’d put her on complete media black-out. No phones, computers, radios, televisions, newspapers, magazines, hell—she couldn’t pass notes. Not until they’d go see him themselves. He’d even gone so far as to make her take something for the attack, which normally she’d refuse on principle.  
As he meandered the halls, snooping in his own right to listen to police and reporters as a fly on the wall, he found one of the pop-up fixtures near the general ICU wing.  
Congregates of street cops were busy sucking down the cheaper forms available to them before headed back to their posts.  
“Hey, how’s the coffee here?” Darren asked in a friendly tone.  
“Ah, it’s the best you’ll find inside the hospital.” One of the officers offered, his badge read SLAUGHTER. Darren thought that was an awful name for a uniform, he smiled.  
“My name’s Darren, you stuck guarding that shit-bag?”  
Officer Slaughter scowled, “No. I’m here keeping the press outta the building. What’s your business here anyway?”  
Darren cracked a smile, “I can promise you, while I’m around, the press won’t be. Not with the risk of another cease and desist order.”  
“How’d you get a C&D? Our prosecutors are twiddling their thumbs…”  
“I pulled it through the federal route, this could charge as a federal case—not saying it will, but you know—domestic terrorism charges, and potentially alienating jurors with the shit they were releasing… and without parental consent, I’ll tell ya, that shit pissed me off. They should be worried about buzzing around me and my own.”  
“Here’s to that!” The officer nodded. “They aren’t always like this, but it’s such a shock and everyone wants answers… hell, our people haven’t even been allowed to talk to the Quest boy yet. Poor kid, we really weren’t sure he’d pull through… and the Felds, little Cherie wanted to dance professionally. She and my daughter’re in dance classes together. Thank god my daughter goes to a different school.”  
Darren nodded, agreeing full-hearted at the assessment. “Didn’t her brother also get hit?”  
“He did, but he’s already been released. Cherie lost her leg from the thigh down.”  
“That’s horrible.” He blanched at the vision. He turned toward the barista, “Two coffees and one hot cocoa—largest size you got for each.”  
“Do you need head space for milk or cream?”  
“Yeah, do you have sugar in the raw?”  
The woman nodded toward the side counter in affirmation.  
“Perfect, thanks.” He slipped her $15 and his drinks into a carrier. He spiked his with half-and-half and a tablespoon’s worth of sugar in the raw, and the other with milk and pocketed four sachets of sugar and four of equal, not sure if Benton was as anti-sugar as he claimed to be.  
In the hallway he stopped at the sounds of distraught parents swearing out an officer not letting them go into the PICU.  
“We have every right to—”  
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Learer, I am, truly, but you cannot come in here. You’ll regret it if you do, and you’ll realize that after some time. Have you spoken with the grief counselors yet, the support groups?”  
“That son of a whore killed my baby! And that schmuck in there could’ve helped her… everyone’s worshipping the ground beneath his feet for saving everyone but he didn’t save HER!”  
Darren cleared his throat. “Mrs. Learer…”  
She turned to glare at the brunette, she didn’t recognize him.  
“Who the hell are you?!”  
“A parent with a kid in the hospital,” He said crossly, but softly. “I’ve lost a child, myself. What you’re feeling is one of the worst pains imaginable, it’s an unnatural pain… kids are supposed to outlive us, not the other way around… but so help you, if you say something so selfish to that boy or his family, your daughter would never forgive you for it. Jonny doesn’t think he saved everyone, and he was a scared kid who did an incredibly brave thing to minimize the carnage, but he’s still a kid and it wasn’t on him to have to do it. He wasn’t there in the beginning, he was in class. If you want to blame anyone, blame the shooter who lived. Get justice, it’s cheap… I tell ya that, it sure as hell doesn’t actually heal the pain, but at least you can direct your anger somewhere constructive. And leave the Felds alone, too. Until you’re calm enough to realize they’re victims too, go talk with the Jacksons, you both have a shared pain and can help each other through it.”  
The woman gnashed her teeth, furious. “Don’t you dare walk in and act like you know how this feels! You don’t know how I feel!”  
“Bullshit I don’t. I know exactly how it feels to have a loved one murdered. A word of the wise, you need a support system. Maybe you’re stronger than me, but I personally almost swallowed the wrong end of my gun after it happened. Not right away, no, that shock, that rage… that lasted a few months. The thoughts of hunting down the fucker who did it and boiling him alive, but then the dread sets in, that realization that even if I did it, my son wouldn’t come back… my fiancée wouldn’t come back… and then I felt suicidal. If you don’t have support you won’t make it. Listen to the officer here, he’s trying to help you. Life just knocked you off trajectory, and you’ll never get back to that original path, but if you let yourself, you can get back onto a different path and not just stagnate into death and despair. I mean it.”  
With that, he walked off, knowing full well his advice would be blatantly ignored until she could even begin to process it. He’d have to give Race a heads-up to keep out the other parents of the shooting victims.  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
Taking up the vigil, Dr. Quest held Jonny’s hand as he continued to sleep. The detective who gently rapped on the door came in and chased out Venus in the process.  
The apologetic look Benton shot his biological daughter seemed conciliatory yet offered no real solution to it.  
“…I’ll go find dad, then…” She frowned, still passing a glance over her brother’s form.  
“This won’t take too long, scout.” He smiled again.  
She poked her tongue out at the nickname, he’d called her it a few times now—she wouldn’t admit it outright, but she did like it. “…Okay, pops.” Venus called back, the sensation still weird to her to admit his parentage.  
Benton gave her an appreciative look, that had been her first time calling him that… unfortunately he couldn’t talk to her more right now, Jonny needed him there as a buffer to the questioning, and the detectives were of the opinion they’d been respectful enough to go this long before the interview.  
He sighed, he hoped she kept herself out of trouble, he’d really have preferred they waited until Darren had gotten back to at least have him able to supervise her while she was so… frazzled.  
Unable to alter that trajectory though, he tapped Jonny awake. “Son? Son, can you wake up for a little bit?”  
Tired cerulean orbs blinked open, “…Huh… dad…?” He groaned, the creases forming in his forehead made it clear he was starting to wear through the pain medicine again. Benton pressed the dispense button to give the boy another dose, now that they’d finally added in the line.  
Within the two minutes, his body seemed to unravel the tension in his supine posture.  
“Who’s that…?” Jonny finally asked, now that the pain medication had kicked in, he could concentrate on something other than the gaping hole in his center and all the throbbing ache that it caused.  
“My name is Detective Harold Poole, I have some questions to ask you to fill in what we know about what happened at the school yesterday…”  
“…Yesterday…? It’s only been a day since it happened…” Jonny’s voice sounded listless.  
“Jonny, I need you to be as open and honest with your answers as you can. There’s no right or wrong, even when it comes to feelings or facts… witnesses and victims sometimes get disoriented, and that’s okay. We’ll go through this a few times, and when you’re sure I have it right, we’ll get you to sign it.”  
“…Sign? Why’d I need to…” Jonny shook his head slowly. He gazed at the ceiling trying to focus. “…What do you need to know?”  
“Start from the beginning. Where were you when you noticed something was wrong?”  
“…” Jonny swallowed down the lump in his throat, he began to cobble together the thoughts he’d wished he could shove into a box in a room and forget about, but he knew better than to ignore boxes of explosive materials for too long. Using the self-hypnosis technique he’d had to rely on in the past, he calmed himself enough to try to remember.  
“I was in Mrs. Hanes’s AP Art History class with my friend Matt Evans… We had a midterm… it was grueling, and I’d answered all my questions in the blue book, but I had to transfer it to the scan-tron to finish the test… I had 10 minutes left to do that and check over my answers. On question 43, I was trying to remember when Van Gogh switched to French Ultramarine from Prussian Blue, and I looked out the window into the courtyard. That’s when I saw a flash. I didn’t hear anything, but I’ve seen a muzzle-flash before… and then I saw another one a few moments later, less than a minute. Maybe thirty seconds, and it had moved closer. I stood up, walked to Mrs. Hanes’s desk and dropped off my test, I wasn’t finished but I knew what I was seeing… It didn’t make sense but I knew what I’d saw.”  
Jonny began to shiver, his father- in an overly cautious manner- draped some blankets over his upper body, still leaving his chest and stomach exposed so as to not jar the staples or stitches.  
“…I told her to cut the lights, block the door, and get everyone against the window. I wasn’t sure if the shooter would come through the courtyard or through the hall…” He swallowed another lump, his mouth felt like cotton.  
“…Then I went to the other classrooms in the wing and warned them too… After Mr. Stevens tried to grab me, I booked it on the double. I think he was trying to get me under cover, but he and I have bad blood, so he might’ve been ticked off I disrupted a class I dropped…”  
His eyes trailed to his dad, as if asking him about it.  
Benton just gave him a mute, supportive smile. That, at least, explained the card that ass had sent, still signing it to John, the man was such a prick.  
Realizing his dad wouldn’t give him the answer, that he’d have to ‘work it out for himself’ as he’d often say, Jonny continued on with his recollection, “…I picked up a fire extinguisher, I could hear more shots, I should say Mrs. Hanes’s class is at the far end of the hall… I was working my way up the hall toward the shooting and toward the fire-doors. I started to spray the extinguisher because I know it reduces visibility a lot and holds in the air for a little while… it’ll also slick up a waxed floor… I warned the other classrooms, I could hear some people starting to panic, I think they’d started to hear some of the muffled shots too but hadn’t placed it until I said what the sound was… but I didn’t have time to tell anyone it’d be okay… I kept fogging up the hallway… I think, thinking back to it, the first and second shot—the ones I saw were different heights, not very different, but one was waist high, the other chest-high… I probably should’ve realized then that it was two people, but it just didn’t register… I’m mad at myself for that… I would’ve been even more careful if I’d… I’d…”  
He paused, choked on a sobbing hiccup.  
“Jonny take a sip.” His dad helped raise him to a 30 degree incline and gave him a small amount of water, barely enough to wet his mouth and throat, but he really wasn’t ready to take on liquids or foods with his stomach as it was.  
Jonny savored the cool liquid, let it warm as it fell down his raw, dry throat, but it was gone before he could take another sip which caused him to frown in displeasure.  
“We have to see how you handle that, first, sport.” Benton assuaged.  
The blond nodded. “…I got to the fire-door in time to see Amy Learer get shot again. She was screaming at first. I think they shot her more than once as they got closer to her, but I don’t know who shot or when… just that the shots were getting closer and she stopped screaming, and I saw her shoes, I don’t think I’d have recognized it was her except she’d just gotten these really cool sneakers that lit up… I saw the chain to the hinge on the fire door, and I know those doors are weighted… so I thought I could barricade us in this hallway, give us a chance to keep them out… Him out… I still thought there was only one, I didn’t see two… but I also wasn’t coming around the corner to stick my head out and count, you know? …So I got the doors closed and the chain off the rod for the first door. I think the first gunman saw the doors close and knew what was happening, he began rushing over… I still had the extinguisher at hand—I raised it over-head… pressed against the braced door, I figured he’d be naturally inclined to try to shove through the door to his right, which wasn’t braced yet… and when he did I swung down hard with the extinguisher. He was firing his gun, sweeping it when he came through the door, he was trying to shoot anyone he could… I got him in the neck pretty hard and he dropped like a sack of flour… he dropped the gun… if… If I’d realized there were two, I think I’d have pushed into the door that I didn’t just brace… you know, hit the chain and then duck low… but I only saw the one at first… anyway, that’s when I heard more gunfire… and I realized he wasn’t alone…”  
Jonny’s hand weakly moved onto his stomach as if the sickening realization dawned on him in that instant, that had been the moment, that had been when he was shot.  
“…I realized the second shooter was about half-way down the hall, he’d probably been the one to shoot the Felds kids… They were way over on the other side of the hall, weren’t they? Dad, you said so… I think… but I don’t know where Peter was, or the hall monitor… I think when he was shooting that time, he was shooting at me, that’s when I got shot… isn’t it?” He asked, trying to piece it together while he worked. At some point in retelling it all, his eyes had begun to water. He tried to suck in the clear snot before it could become a waterfall and was failing miserably. God, he felt like shit.  
“I heard the final bell ring… I realized he was blocking the door open… the guy I clobbered… so I tried to move him, but it was really, really hard to… I barely was able to before the other gunman was right there… I slammed the door shut after pushing the first gunman outside the door and I pulled the chain… and then I slid down the door and onto the floor…There was an overhead announcement, but I couldn’t say what they said… all I could think about was there was a gunman right outside the fire-door and that was all we had between us and a shooter—a fire door and a fire extinguished… but then I saw siren lights under the crack and heard more shots, but those weren’t muffled. I think the police shot him when he wouldn’t drop the gun… they were talking, shouting at him… I dunno… I… I remember lying there for what felt like forever, and then I heard another announcement telling everyone to stay inside the classrooms, still… but then I saw Matt… it felt like it’d been seconds or hours… I don’t even know how the cops got called or how they got there so fast… if it was fast at all… time moved so strangely.”  
Jonny gagged a little as he kept going back to seeing those twitching shoes stop twitching.  
“…How long was it from beginning to end? You know, don’t you?”  
“The Hall Monitor called it in, after she was shot the second time and they walked into the building, she was still alive and called it in. She bled out before we got there, but it went on for 12 minutes.”  
His stomach roiled on him, a full muscular paroxysm as his stomach tried to empty itself.  
“Officer, I think he’s spoken enough about this today.” Benton said firmly, pressing the call button to the nurse’s station. “Jonny, it’s okay, let’s get you lying back down… you’re going to be fine, it’s okay…” He coaxed.  
A mouthful of blood and bile worked its way up on Jonny, the added blanket caught the foulness as his eyes fully rolled up on him.  
“Son, I have you, try to breathe. Come on, in through your nose, out through your mouth…” came the calming affirmations as Jonny’s eyes continued to flutter shut. His gentle, large hand touched his son’s neck as he tried to reach him with his voice. “You’re in Mercy Hospital with me, that nightmare’s played out… you’re not there anymore,” his own voice hitched as he took hold of Jonny’s hand for two points of contact as the nurse came in.  
“Oh goodness, Detective Poole, you need to leave for now. Dr. Quest, please step back, let us have space to work?” She said much more carefully to the latter than the former.  
Benton returned to his nearby chair, still clutching Jonny’s hand as he kept speaking to him, “Son, I’m here… we’re all here… right outside waiting to come see you…”  
As his body still shook, he tried to reel his visceral reaction back in. After several long moments he asked in a breathy shudder, “…Did the other shooter die?”  
“The one who shot you did. The one that you hit is alive.”  
Jonny frowned, the nurse was giving him several injections to help calm him and alleviate his nausea. He closed his eyes, not sure how to make the images of dead and mutilated classmates vanish from his mind’s eye.  
He didn’t want all this attention either! He just wanted to slog through an impossibly hard AP midterm and Honor-Roll English Lit. midterm and go on winter break… go visit his sister’s home and see a 16 foot christmas tree that she’d wheedled her adoptive dad into getting. He wanted the closest things to normal he could get in his day-to-day life, so why couldn’t he?!  
“Who were the shooters and why did they do this to me? To any of us?!” Jonny said after a long moment, glaring at his dad with an unfocused anger and anxiety.  
Dr. Quest thought about shelving the question again, but this had been the third time his son had asked. If he wanted to know why, even if the reason was as impossibly flimsy as it was, he deserved to hear it and realize it would bring him no closure.  
“I won’t say who the shooters were, they aren’t worthy of being named. Your friends are right about that, too, and the newspapers are giving them more than 15 minutes of glory for the wretched things they’ve done… but the reason they did it, or at least the one they gave was that they were tired of being looked down on and not being good enough for other people. They wanted easy fame… and they’re getting it. Those malicious little narcissists are getting exactly what they wanted—to be known while the victims are almost entirely unmentioned except as victims. Except you, you changed the narrative, some news outlets, instead of giving those murderers fan-fare are focusing on the heroic acts of everyday people in cases of utmost peril.”  
Jonny’s eyes drifted up, “If he lived… I’ll have to testify… I want to know his name. I want to know if I knew him.”  
“Why? If you did, you didn’t truly know him, and he certainly didn’t know you.”  
“…And the one who’s dead, who shot me? I don’t get to know if that was a person I used to sit two seats from in class? That I was in gym with? That might have talked to me…?”  
Benton clutched his hands, so thankful the medicine was working and the boy didn’t appear to be in agonizing levels of pain, though he still was feeling some. “I think you’d be better served focusing attention on all the classmates you’ll be sitting next to for the next two and a half years, and knowing them, and the ones who you saved directly and indirectly by your quick thinking… don’t you think that’s more productive? That those fellow survivors are going to struggle with that guilt too, and that you can be there with them and make them not feel guilty for living because of the actions you took to ensure it?”  
The blond’s cheeks and ears turned a soft pink, still not used to the actual attention affiliated with his often brazen and equally heroic actions.  
Jonny locked eyes with the nurse as she finished up. With a smile, she touched his cheek, “There’s more letters. We’ll bring them in once the early afternoon mail comes through.”  
He let his eyes drift back to his dad’s, he felt heavy, as if gravity wanted to work extra hard for him.  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
Darren handed Benton a second hot coffee, slipping into the room after corralling the kids and getting Race to act as the ‘sitter.  
“I hear there’ll be a vigil tomorrow night, they’re going to have a walk from the school to the hospital so that the kids could see it. I don’t know if Jonny can really sit up for that, but I think it’d do him a world of good to see his friends and family supporting him and sending him their love that way.”  
“That is kind, but he’s on strict bed rest…”  
Darren eyed the large viewing window. “Charlie’s a nice kid, he stopped by to ask how Jonny’s doing, I think he’s planning on being in the vigil, since his sister feels like a freak right now… poor girl.”  
Benton nodded, though he couldn’t focus on them, he also ached for what they were going through, knowing firsthand what it was like. Especially for Charlie, he’d probably give his own leg for his sister to have hers. Not that it worked that way. “How long is she going to be in the hospital for?”  
“They’re scheduled for a very Mercy Hospital christmas themselves. On the plus side, the little sociopath’s finally getting carted off to juvie. That’s some real bullshit, I tell you. He deserves to go to big boy prison for that shit.”  
Benton didn’t comment, “I should speak with the Felds, it might be good for Jonny to hear how they feel about all of this, too…”  
“Yeah, I’d avoid the Learers though. They’re still very raw about it, and the Jacksons… I haven’t heard a peep outta them. Did Venus finish sorting through that first wave of cards?”  
He nodded.  
“Good, maybe the kids can get Jonny outta his funk by reading them to him.” Darren glanced at his watch, “How long is the kid going to be here for? Or at least the over-under…”  
“At least a week, maybe longer, once they’re sure his sutures are healed up, he’ll be allowed to go home to stay on bed-rest.”  
Darren smiled at that, “Yeah… that’s always fun. But that does mean he’ll be home for the holidays. I’m about to piss off my princess, but we can host it in your house, get a tree up and running, all that shebang and leave you to it.”  
“That’s a kind offer, but that might just overwhelm him.”  
“We can play it by ear. The offer’ll stand. Anyway, the kids should swing in and see him, give him something else to think about.”  
Benton gave a nod, “I think I’ll step out and find Race, and maybe check on the Felds.”  
“Cool, I’ll keep an eye on him if you’ll be so kind as to release the kraken.”  
“…The kraken?”  
“Ah, yes, you know how different groups of a given species have unique names, a business of ferrets, a plague of rats, an obstinancy of buffalo, a migraine of children… or kraken, I’ve seen both in the literature.” He smirked.  
The dubious smile he received from Dr. Quest made the room lose some of its drear. “I’ll send them in. Though, I’ve always heard that referred to as hoards of children.”  
“Oh, that’s only when they’re hungry.”  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
Charlie leaned against the wall between Jessie and Hadji, his sleek black sling kept his right arm tightly pinned to his shoulder.  
“Do you think he’ll be able to see from his room?” He asked the pair while they kept watch of his door for the police to leave.  
“He should be able to… but he’s also been really tired.” Jessie offered, leaving her friend an easy out. “How’s Cherie doing?”  
Charlie shook his head, “Really depressed. She hasn’t stopped crying yet.” His voice held a soft anger to it, frustrated at how his family’s lives had been so drastically altered and how quickly.  
Hadji nodded, “How are you feeling, Charlie?”  
“Me? Helpless, I can’t do anything to make her stop crying… it’s awful.”  
The three teens looked at each other, company on the same boat.  
“…I wish I could’ve helped, he was in and out of the room in under ten seconds…” Jessie reflected, her own memories of the day such a different perspective than what it could have been. She was supposed to be inconsolable over letting her A+ in chemistry slip to a flimsy A, or maybe even a strong A-!  
She turned to see Venus slipping out from Cherie’s room, catching the look, Charlie turned to see the blond smiling and waving to his little sister. He gawked, from fifteen feet away he could see for the first time since his sister woke up and found out her leg was gone that she’d finally stopped crying.  
“What were you doing in there?!” Jessie bit, “For crying out loud, Venus! It’s a hospital! You can’t just visit people at random!”  
Venus wagged her eyebrows, “As long as you don’t get caught, that’s exactly what you can do.”  
She couldn’t help but smirk at the blond— that was such a Jonny way of thinking. “You’re way more of a trouble-maker than your dad lets on.”  
“Not true! Trouble unobserved is trouble non-existent.” She stretched her arms overhead, “Besides, Jonny wanted someone to check on Cherie too.” She gave a toothy grin knowing Jessie had also ‘overheard’ his comments, the polite way of saying they’d all shamelessly eavesdropped.  
“What do you think we can do to cheer him up?” Jessie asked, still keeping an eye on Charlie, the boy seemed to really be divided about not going back into his sister’s room to check on her.  
“How’d you get her to stop crying?” Charlie asked, amazed.  
“I know a lady who runs with a blade-prosthetic. I told her she didn’t have to give up on anything, she just had to be ready to work even harder to accomplish her dreams… and really, after she’d lived through that… that’d be the easy part. She agreed. I told her I’d get her contact info to the lady I knew, and some of the physical therapists I know who work with prosthetics to see what’s the good kind for what she wants to be able to do.”  
“You know someone like that? Is that… through your dad?” Jessie asked cautiously.  
“My uncle, actually, Charlie if you need to go be with her, that’s okay.” Venus smiled charismatically.  
They didn’t get it, how she looked night-and-day from when she’d first rolled up to the hospital, even in the room with Jonny, she’d looked so much calmer, but they doubted she felt that way.  
Charlie didn’t seem to notice, but was eager to take up the offer.  
“Thanks… Jessie, Hadji, I’ll see you at the vigil tomorrow at 7, right?”  
The two nodded.  
“Venus, did you want to come too?”  
“No, I think I’ll sit in with Jonny. I’ll make sure he sees it, Charlie.” She smiled again even more brightly, it almost came off as coquettish. She turned to look back to Jessie and Hadji after Charlie retreated to the room she’d recently vacated. Still smiling, but tone souring she asked, “What?”  
“Why are you acting like that?” Jessie crossed her arms, unsure.  
She gave Jessie a polite glower, “What? Polite?”  
“I think we define polite a little differently.” Jessie simpered back. “Do you like him?”  
“I don’t even know him. And, for the record, no,” Venus said peevishly. “Besides, that’s not what you’re wondering about. Spit it out.”  
“…In all the time I’ve known you combined, you’ve smiled less than you have today.” Jessie finally acquiesced.  
“Ah, yes, well… about that…” Venus looked away, scowling more in frustration than annoyance. “It’s not Jonny’s job to make me feel better… and as long as I keep a smile on my face, he won’t know just how bad that shook me. How’re you holding up? That must have been scary.”  
The sad look Jessie and Hadji shot her almost made her opt to abort the nicety of the ask.  
She shook her head to circumvent their rebuke. “Leaders lead by example, and that example right now is that I can hold my shit together for my family. I’m good. How are you?”  
“You want the BS lie like you just gave, or the honest one?” Jessie crossed her arms again.  
“I want to know how you really feel, Jessie. You had friends get shot, some died. That’s a lot to process.”  
“And you think I think you can take my…”  
Venus shot her a serious look.  
“…Of course I’m upset. It’s natural to be.” She said flatly, her shoulders slumped. “Mr. Stevens almost caught Jonny before he left… he would’ve been somewhere safer then…”  
Both Hadji and Venus frowned, as if both knew how untrue that would have been.  
“Jessie, if the fire doors had remained unsealed… well, it would not have been safer.”  
“Bought the cops about 7 minutes by my count, and saying the whole thing was over in 12 minutes… they’d have covered more than enough ground to get to your classroom too.” Venus said, upon reflection she wondered if she shouldn’t have.  
“But we’d have been facing it TOGETHER.”  
“…Oh, right, so you both could’ve been shot. Nice choice and all… but no, I said that wrong… Jessie, Jonny couldn’t have you catch up. It would’ve taken up too much time. And didn’t you say Mr. Stevens didn’t even believe him at first? Those first shots sounded pretty muffled, he mightn’t’ve heard it at all, or misattribute it.”  
“…How do you know what it sounded like?” Jessie’s eyes narrowed.  
Venus let out a scoff, “Because you go to a public school that uses closed-circuit security footage, and I wanted to know.” She let her airs flare high, an apropos mask for her own jitters.  
Jessie paled. “You saw it then…?”  
“And dad and Alex just made sure no one outside of the Portland PD will until this goes to trial. If it goes to trial, that is.” Venus crossed her arms, “It wasn’t a great movie, I wouldn’t recommend it.”  
Hadji pulled Jessie into a protective hug, pressed her back to his chest as he shivered at the thought. From what they’d heard, and from what he’d seen in the papers, he could imagine well-enough where his brother had stood, and laid as he bled. The puddle of blood as it pooled under the fire-door was haunting as the pool ballooned so far outward.  
He knew Jessie had seen those images too, and that neither could will away those thoughts. Hadji had almost lost his family- his brother and his girlfriend, both of them he loved tremendously.  
“We must find a way to reach through his depression. He does not deserve such sorrow.” Hadji whispered.  
Venus shrugged, “I hear you, but I think its survivor’s guilt in a masquerade. I don’t think it’s depression… yet.”  
“So, how do we keep him from that?” Jessie asked both of her hallway conspirators.  
“Well, he’s empathetic, so we remind him he’s not the only one feeling survivor’s guilt. I think Cherie can help with that a lot, too.”  
Hadji bobbed his head in agreement. “And if he sees the others, those he directly contributed to saving, I do believe that would be much more impactful for him.”  
“Jessie, can you make sure his friends are there, too? Matt, Bobby, and TK—toward the front where he can might be able to see them? Or make them make a sign…”  
“Oh god, you want me to encourage them… yeah. I can do that.” She smiled, thinking that might actually make him feel pretty good.  
Darren cleared his throat, catching the kids in the act of planning.  
“Dad!” Venus squeaked excitedly, the brunette slung an arm across her shoulders to pin her in a hug.  
“Kids… whatcha working up?” He schmoozed a friendly smile, he squeezed his daughter in the hug and then let it loosen back to a slung posture, he could tell she was still trembling from nerves.  
“Just how to lift Jonny’s spirits with the vigil,” Jessie owned up, honestly.  
“Oh, that’s nice of you…” He scanned across them, “Did you pick up those anti-boredom rations?”  
“TK requested that he pick them out, he said he did not believe we had the right ‘nerd qualifications’ to attain the correct ones.” Hadji specified. “As if I do not know my brother purchases Dark Horse new releases on Thursdays. He missed yesterday’s release date for the three series he is currently following.”  
Darren laughed, he pulled out a clove cigarette and slipped it between his lips, chewing the filter.  
He thought about where they were, inside a hospital, and returned it to his pack, he also let his daughter go, though as she hadn’t fought his grip, he doubted she wanted to actually lose the contact.  
“Okay, well, I have one more mission to run, and I need your help, Hadji. You know the stoic crowd’s favorite dishes, right?”  
Hadji nodded, “But of course.”  
“Then come back with me and this one, Jess, you’re welcome to join us too, or stick around here with Jonny… we’re just going to get lunch made up and bring it back.”  
The redhead nodded, “Hadj, you don’t mind if I hold back, do you?”  
“Not at all, I would be very glad Jonny has the company.”  
She smiled sweetly back into his dark-chocolate eyes. “Don’t make anything too good, it’ll make Jonny jealous he can’t eat yet.”  
“Oh, we’ll sneak it around him. Comfort food’s so I can vent you guys before you go critical mass on me.” He nudged Venus suggestively, “Including this one.”  
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll have you know, I’m past critical mass.”  
He shot her a dirty laugh, “That I’d believe.”  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
Hadji stared at the spread, he hadn’t even needed to tell Darren how Race preferred Tex-Mex chili as his go-to meal, the accompanying cornbread pockets held the meaty concoction between layers of sharp cheddar and extra sharp cheddar.  
“I did not know you knew Race so well.” Hadji said in disbelief.  
“You kidding me? My ma made him a staple of our Sunday Suppers from the time he was maybe 8…? It felt like forever. Him, I know how to feed. Dr. Quest, not so sure what hits ‘comfort food’ for him. The way you keep eying that pocket I’d think what you like are curry pockets… or are your comfort flavors more Westernized? I’m not trying to be a jerk, Venus told me you joined the family at 10 or so…”  
Hadji smiled, “I do enjoy both my native cuisine, and our family favorites, but I would hate to trouble you, you have already made so much…”  
“Nah, I told you my strategy, get each of you your comfort foods and then get you to release some of your stress and talk it through. You can’t just muscle your way over that kind of terrain because you’ll think you’re okay, but then you won’t be, and then it gets extra ugly. Sadly, I’ve dealt with this kind of fall-out a handful of times. This one has one hell of a silver-lining in that Jonny’s alive, but yeah… you need to air out that gunk so it doesn’t fester and that means soul food. So what’s your soul food?”  
“…Curry and naan, particularly red curry.”  
Venus looked at him worriedly, “Like what level of def-con is the heat? Do I need to leave it to him?” She looked at her dad suggestively.  
“What def-con is a ghost pepper?” Hadji asked in a calm affect.  
“…Probably a 4, it might be faster if I just set some napkins on fire for ya...” Venus quipped.  
“Sweetie, he was joking. I saw some of the dehydrated chilies you have in the back of the pantry, you like to feel warm but not to sweat, right?”  
Hadji smiled appreciatively.  
“Alright, I’ll run through that one last. Yeah, princess, he’s going to smoke you outta the room.”  
“Do you eat very spicy foods?” Hadji asked, curious about the man.  
Darren shrugged, “Eh, people do all sorts of things when bored or pranked. I’ve had eaten a whole Carolina Reaper once. Once.” He reiterated, “Suffice to say there was a bet involved about getting through it, bragging rights and special favors promised. It was not worth it, but blended into a large batch of salsa? It might’ve been decent.”  
Hadji nodded, “Once, in Thailand, Jonny and I attempted a similar feat, it is one of the few times my brother has ever lost his appetite, or that I outright demolished him in competition.”  
“You’re usually nice and bow out a round or two later?” Darren asked with a smirk.  
“Oh, no. We are very competitive, but typically we excel at very different things and therefore do not directly compete. When it comes to things like Space Camp or Robotics Camp, we like to be on the same team instead of versus each other, I find that more harmonious and far more enjoyable.”  
“Whereas Jessie likes to take the gamble and go for the win?” Venus asked while milling grains to work on the naan bread.  
“At times, yes. She and Jonny have what I would say is a rivalry, it is usually a healthy rivalry, though there are times when she takes it to extremes, and times when Jonny takes it from direct competition toward more mischief. Such as the time he dyed her teeth blue for three days.”  
Venus coughed a laugh, “Switched the toothpaste with a pigment? Doesn’t that sound familiar…” she nudged her dad.  
“Oh, I totally called it, he and Jessie are a lot like me and my bestie. I don’t think you’ve had the distinct displeasure of meeting De, she’s a real pill—a Gee-Dee horse pill.” His voice shone with fondness.  
Blond hair swept in a deep nod to concur. “De and dad prank each other ruthlessly. Every so oft, I’ve gotten mixed into the soirée, and that’s never been a pleasant experience for any party involved.”  
Darren let out a hearty laugh, “Oh dear god, no it is not. That’s why Venus hates spicy food, actually. I almost lost my shit, De put a quarter a bottle of Reaper Rum in the milk… and this one had a glass of it, so not only is it incredibly spicy, there’s nothing to drink for relief, and she got drunk… all around parenting faux pas. She was choking because she’d slung back that milk and was sick as a dog for a solid day and a half. I mean, De even apologized. You know how bad she had to have fucked up to own it?” He let out a long whistle.  
“She let me watch rated R horror movies while my dad was in surgery when I was 4… and really, that’s just tame for her.” Venus smiled affectionately. “She is so evil.”  
“…So curry for you, no reaper peppers though. What’s on the menu for Benton, and for Jessie?”  
“Jessie has a sweet-tooth, on the rare occasions where I happen to have upset her, I find that delicate French macarons have helped me navigate to safe waters.”  
“Oh, baking—I call dibs. What flavors does she like? Rose water, almond, vanilla, chocolate…?”  
“Basil or mint,” Hadji nodded solemnly, “paired with a delicate cocoa filling, or raspberry with a tart jam.”  
“Basil, you say?” Venus smirked, “Think she’d dig that with a strawberry jam? They pair well. You know what, I can experiment a little, it’ll work out.”  
“As for father, his comfort food has very English roots, shepherd’s pies, roasts, chicken pot pies…”  
“I can take on a pot-pie, too, dad. You get Hadji’s and ours?”  
“Works for me…” He glanced over her debating which route to take with her this time. “How hungry do you feel?”  
Venus shrugged, “Not very…” for a moment she looked distant, remembering the sights she’d conjured through highly effective snooping. She shook her head as if to dispel the imagery.  
“Okay, sweetie, you need about 40 minutes?”  
She nodded, “Yeah, and then I’ll need the oven for another 40, and 10 minutes assembly time for the macarons. Stair-case it?”  
He nodded, “I can do the bake and leave you with the assembly piece while I work on that curry.”  
Venus’s face soured, “…I don’t want to be in the room when you do that.”  
“It’s the part where it’s still dry, sweetie, I know what I’m doing in a kitchen.” He warned her.  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
By 2 PM, Darren had a picnic basket worth of rich foods, all with multiple portions and ready to serve, Venus tagged behind closely, Hadji slightly further back as he looked over the media vans, cameramen, and reporters. While the numbers had dwindled since the suspect was transferred, their presence was still pervasive.  
“You kids should go on up ahead, the three of you don’t mind waiting with your brother while I get your dad and Race fed, do you?”  
“No, that will be quite alright.” Hadji said with a relaxed smile. The time away from the hospital, actually doing something, had been a balm in and of itself. The helplessness of the situation had momentarily left him, for which he was very grateful.  
Venus poked Darren’s side before heading with Hadji. “Don’t you think for a New York Minute that you have to take it all on your own…”  
He smiled at his daughter, the girl really was such a sweet kid, “I wouldn’t dream of it. Family leans in, sweetie, all of us need to do that.”  
She smiled at that, satisfied. She steeled herself and affixed a much less sarcastic, cheery expression. Her TV smile and charismatic energy she projected as she walked into the hospital seemed to turn some heads, Hadji noticed.  
He thought she had a similar presence as how Jonny could light up a room when he so chose, and really hoped he’d return to his old luminous self again shortly, it suited him much better than her.  
Within the PICU suite, Hadji found Race sitting to Jonny’s side talking to him about how to build a snare trap, the thought exercise gave Jonny something to focus on other than the ache in his core or the horrors he’d bore witness to.  
“So then you loop it around, and give it a tug. But the real trick is in laying it without laying your scent with it.”  
Jonny smiled tiredly, “Or I could stick to fishing… I’m pretty good with a spear.” He cupped his stomach carefully. “…Dad, can you hit the button a couple?”  
“Of course,” he triggered it twice to release more of the morphine, he watched his son ease back tiredly. He’d quickly made the correlation that the pain medication heavily sedated his son as well, by the looks of it, he’d fall asleep again pronto.  
“…Dad?” Jonny croaked, turning his head toward the redhead.  
“Yes, son?”  
“…Can you tell Mrs. Hanes it was French Ultramarine…? I’m pretty sure I circled both… but it’s French Ultra… marine…” his eyes slipped closed as he began to doze.  
“…Sure, I’ll call her and tell her you said so…” He whispered soothingly, and damned if he wasn’t serious about it. The boy was clearly fixated on the last normal moment before things had went so far off-tilt.  
“Father, Race— Darren has prepared lunch. He asked for you both to go join him while we wait here with Jonny.” Hadji said in a polished delivery. He gave a prim gesturing arm sweep to suggest the direction of the cafeteria.  
“Alright, we’ll be back in a little bit then.” Race said, also liking the distraction for Benton, he looked frayed, and frankly he welcomed the idea of some home-made grub.  
Benton smiled softly at his resting, prone child, pet the teenager’s cheek before he stood. “Thank you, Hadji. Is your sister getting Jessie?”  
Hadji nodded. “Yes, sir, they will both be back shortly.”  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
Race gave a once-over to the large fare, shocked to find his childhood favorite reimagined. “When did you become so domesticated?”  
“Oh stow it, Snow. I grew up with that cooking catalog. Someone had to carry the tradition of feeding you outta house and home.”  
Race laughed deeply, already relaxing at the smells of sweet chili and a hint of diced bell peppers and melted cheddar.  
“Well, if you keep cooking like that and Ma Korvin’ll be darn proud.”  
Darren laughed, “Oh, she was plenty proud when I showed a Michelin Star chef how she made a soufflé.”  
Race savored the morsel, it really did bring him back.  
“Benton, how’re you holding up?” He probed as he pushed over a potpie with intricate latticing on the top.  
“I’d feel better if I knew where the kids were, that Jessie and Jonny both feel so guilty about it all, and Venus just smiling so unnaturally…”  
Darren shrugged, “We can work on that, but you’re still worrying. You know the squirt’s turned a corner, he’s just going to be sore for a while. He’s stable, that’s damn good news.”  
“I recognize that, but Darren, his mother was shot. That’s how Rachel died, and that’s not something easily overlooked, by Jonny or me for that matter.”  
He gave a patient smile, “Believe me, I appreciate that, and I readily advocate for doting the shit outta kids… but with his anxiety, do you really want to be feeding into it with your own? That’s why Venus is all smiles right now. She’s not doing that for her sake, she’s doing it for Jonny’s. He’s smart enough to know you’re all concerned, and that it’s a brave face… but the fact that you can put on a brave face means it can’t be that horrendous. And he needs that. Cherie needs that, Charlie needs that, all three of them need to feel like they can eventually get off this whirly-bird and back to the ground floor.”  
Benton sliced into the pie, he didn’t feel particularly hungry but it smelled divine.  
“That one’s courtesy of Venus, she loves to bake. It’s when she actually pays attention to recipes and follows instructions exquisitely.”  
Several bites into the chicken pot pie, he quickly realized he’d devoured the meal, and at some point, some of the stress had eased back. “Darren, while you’re not as …capitalized, it’s obvious that you also care for Jonny. How are you managing?”  
Darren gave a warm smile, “I’m with my family, and I believe we’re rallying. The squirt is alive, and he’ll heal up real nice… It does kill me when kids are hurt, it really does, but I believe in him. He’s going to pull through this, and he’ll be a better person for the trials and tribulations of it as ugly a thought that is.”  
“…A better person?” Benton cawed, “how pray-tell do you come to that conclusion?”  
Darren looked down at the decimated feast, then back up at Dr. Quest with a beaming confidence, “Because every time you climb an insurmountable obstacle, you yourself become that much more intractable. Beating the unbeatable, surviving against the odds and then to carry others through it, and so gracefully? It’s no different than strengthening a blade in a forge. He’ll pull so much internal strength as we lend him our own. I don’t do flattery for the sake of it, but I hold Jonny in very high regards. Even more so with his natural inclinations, simply put, now he knows he really is a hero; he can’t hide that his instincts far exceeded self-preservation, his instincts were to serve others, a valiant act of altruism.”  
“He’s demonstrated that more than enough.”  
Darren gave a nonchalant shirk, “How can you put limits on expressing your innateness?”  
“Don’t tell me you want to recruit him?” Race crossed his arms.  
The boisterous laugh that erupted carried through the cafeteria, he lowered his voice, “No way in hell. One of them is enough. If my agents thought that was the standard my intakes would nose-dive. Besides, Jonny wouldn’t want to be an agent. He’d be great at it, but it’s not what he wants and you know it. No, he’ll make one hell of a diplomat. I believe that.”  
“…I’m sorry, that was unfair of us, you’re simply trying to bestow a kindness to us…” Benton reasoned.  
“Fuck that, Benton, don’t go stiff on me like that. I know the family dynamics here are more than a little wonky, but he’s important to Venus and he’s important to me, too. We’re here because we love him and want to support him in his recovery, and support his supports… because that’s what family should do.”  
“Thank you, for that.”  
“Alright, if you’ve filled up, you should send the kids down. I don’t trust serene-types when they get hungry. I feel like that hangry well can run pretty damn deep.”  
Benton’s eyebrow shot up, “Well, your instincts aren’t completely infallible. I’ve never seen Hadji become hangry.”  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
At the cafeteria, the kids scarfed through their lunches, Jessie eyed the macarons with discontent. “…These are too good. That’s about two days of calories right there…”  
“But it is healthy.” Hadji offered, also considering the large bolus of curry he was packing in. “And we will burn these calories very easily at the vigil tomorrow.”  
Jessie let out a dark laugh, “Yeah, keeping TK and Bobby from mortifying Jonny with those ‘Bond Girl Forever’ signs… we really shouldn’t have encouraged that.”  
“Jonny’ll think it’s funny, he likes that nickname.” Venus offered as she pushed at the plate in front of her, the meal untouched. “I heard Cherie’s been more resolved… that she’s feeling a lot stronger now.”  
Jessie smiled, “Yeah, whatever you told her really seems to have stuck.”  
Venus shook her head, “Nah, that was internal. I just got her there a little faster. Charlie’s taking it in strides, that makes me worry he’s neglecting himself.”  
“But don’t you think he feels like he needs to? For his parents and his little sister’s sake…?”  
Venus shrugged, “…I hope he doesn’t become suicidal. It happens sometimes.”  
“Instead of worrying for the others, you should take your own advice and take care of yourself. Venus, you have not touched your lunch, do you not think Darren would be upset by that?”  
The girl scoffed, “Oh, dad’s plenty used to me being finicky about eating. Anyway, I’m too stressed to eat.”  
“Why do you feel stressed? Do you feel it is only on you to fix Jonny?” Hadji asked straight to the point. With a wince, her cerulean eyes locked onto an interesting corner away from anyone else’s direct eye-contact.  
“Not particularly. What I do feel is helpless. I feel angry. And I feel like it never should have happened, I want to know how the hell your school didn’t notice these two going so far down the rabbit hole… the survivor is claiming bullying made him do it, and I know for a fact that Amy, Peter, Cherie, Charlie, and Jonny simply did not do it… so in their final act they still couldn’t be bothered to confront the supposed people that made them turn themselves into monsters? No way. Its bullshit and I refuse the buy their sob stories. This was about hurting people so they could have power—attention, and it pisses me off that my brother is letting them get what they want as inadvertently as he is doing that. I still haven’t stopped shaking since I found out he was involved… on a plus side, Visine and lemon wedges really helps me keep on with the show as it were.”  
“…The show?”  
“Jonny has more than enough on his plate, he doesn’t need me adding to his pile. And Hadji, I am taking care of myself. I’m not hiding that I’m doing it, I’m doing it for one person and one person alone.”  
The Indian teen nodded as if considering this. “While I do understand your motivation, it is a very different philosophy to which we were raised.”  
“Yeah, no kidding,” Venus rolled her shoulders, “but I’m not wrong. Pops is doing the stoic thing, and if you don’t think it’s the same kind of emotional shielding… well… then you would be wrong. No one thinks any one of us aren’t upset, but I’m not going to bulldoze Jonny’s feelings with mine.”  
The others looked between themselves, then back at the food. As not hungry and as hungry as they were, they were all spent at both ends.  
-Killer Mid-Terms JQ-  
1500 EST, 18 December…  
The day had moved much like the day before, with a sinking feeling of several more days cut from the same cloth.  
Jonny looked at the stacks and stacks of cards, the flowers had thankfully been weeded back to just one polite bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers, a cheery nod to one of his favorite major artists, and appropriately enough was courtesy of Mrs. Hanes.  
The stuffed animals disappeared as fast as they arrived with Race sending them to the younger kids in the pediatric ward, the fruit baskets and chocolates were delved out to the nurse stations throughout the hospital, though Venus seemed to begrudge the loss of some of the nicer baskets packed with Ghirardelli confections and Godiva truffles.  
The only ‘safe’ items were the cards, and Jonny just couldn’t be bothered with them. He just couldn’t buy into his actions as anything outside of the norm… wouldn’t most people do the right thing? He didn’t think it made him special for doing it, sure, maybe for surviving it… but any number of people had stepped up and weren’t getting heralded like he was.  
It made his already sore stomach feel sick.  
He wasn’t a hero, he was just doing what anyone else would have, and he wasn’t happy at the attention for it.  
As he brooded, he saw a similarly shaded pair of blue eyes dip into his view. “…Let me guess, you’re languidly fantasizing about your English Mid-term?”  
Jonny cracked a smile, “Hardly…”  
“Hmmm… then are you thinking upon how our eyes evolved so we could interpret so many shades of yellows?”  
He gave a soft, breathy chortle, “Guess again.”  
“Alright, then… you’re busy contemplating the human condition and how humble we must be in such a grandiose place-setting as the universe…”  
That earned him a healthier sounding laugh, he subconsciously curled his hand protectively over his stomach, “…Maybe indirectly. You’re waxing pretty poetically, you and Hadji hanging out now?”  
“Not particularly. You know, when I do impetuously daring stunts I usually don’t bother trying to go the humble route, I do think most other people if given the chance and expertise would rise to the occasion, but at the same time, I think some people wouldn’t. Self-preservation’s a pretty common instinct, and well… I’ve always been more of a Fighter than a Flighter.”  
“…Your dad says I should really work on being more of a Fabricator with my interest in Diplomacy.”  
“Eh, that or a Fucker… Benjamin Franklin was pretty convinced most diplomacy happens at night…”  
“Pass.” Jonny gave her a dirty look, a blush swept his cheeks.  
“Oh? I thought you liked Benjamin Franklin.” She winked, teasing her brother a little.  
“I do, but not like that.” Jonny teased back.  
“TK and the Olsen Twins said they’d be here around 8 to visit before lights out. Did Charlie sneak in yet?”  
Jonny shook his head, “No, he didn’t… I wanted to see how Cherie’s doing, but you know I can’t get out of bed to go ask.”  
Venus looked back toward the door, “Sure, sure, you gotta keep resting a bit longer for that, did you want any non-comic books? I’d imagine you’ve already got through the pile of comic-books the others dropped off.”  
Jonny shook his head, “Not really, I’m still getting pretty tired out, and when I’m up… well, I’ve had visitors.” He gestured to her as if an exhibit of evidence. “…Sis, can I ask you something?”  
The girl smiled more toothily, frankly, her face was starting to hurt but she’d indulge him. “Yeah, but no promises on answers.”  
She saw how he looked dejected by that comment.  
“I mean, of course if I’m able to answer it I’ll try to…” She backpedaled, perfectly played by her brother. “…Damn, you’re too good at that!”  
“At what?” He said glumly.  
“Oh you know exactly what. Ask your question.”  
He cleared his throat a little, “…Have you seen the crime scene photos? Do you know how it happened? I’m banking on either you or your dad would know, and I don’t think Darren’d tell me.”  
Venus blanched. “…Oh.”  
Jonny gave her a pleading look, doubling down on his approach.  
“Yeah, I did.” She looked toward the door then pulled up a chair conspiratorially, “I wasn’t supposed to, so if I tell you about it, don’t go telling dad about it. He’d be mad.”  
“I don’t plan on telling anyone else. You think your dad would be mad, I think our dad would be double-so.”  
“Probably, he’s way more uptight.” Venus nodded in agreement, she blew out a long breath. “You want timetables, huh?”  
He bobbed in affirmation. “I want to know what happened that I didn’t see. All of it.”  
She looked him up and down, “And you think it’ll help you somehow?”  
“I don’t care if it helps me or not. I want to know.” He said resolutely.  
“Alright, then…” Venus pulled the chair even closer to Jonny’s ear, “Then I’ll tell you what I’ve pieced together so far, but my condition is simple—you know this is just the facts, but I’ve injected some suppositions and opinions but I’ll tell you when I’m doing that, I don’t want you thinking I’m lying about anything.”  
“Yeah.”  
“…There were two shooters, shooter 1 is the decedent, shooter 2 is the surviving. Shooter 1 killed his family first thing in the morning on the 16th, then he proceeded to shooter 2’s house. Shooter 2 left a note hidden under his keyboard in his room for his family. They took their kits and left for school, instead of going into the school, though, they went to that patch of woods by the soccer fields, there’s evidence that it’s the unspoken ‘smoker’s hutch’ and, this is conjecture, probably a stoner hidey-hole. They drank a few beers and burned away most of the day, then, at about 2:15, they made their walk to get back into the school.”  
Jonny closed his eyes as if imagining it, Venus took hold of his hand.  
“…Shooter 1 was ahead of shooter 2 by roughly 20 feet. The hall monitor physically blocked the door, likely she was thinking they were trying to hop back in by end of day so they could take the buses back. Then shooter 1 drew his gun and that perspective changed. He shot her once, then moved into the school. Shooter 2 then pulled his piece and also shot her and followed inside. He closed the door and locked it. They entered the connecting corridor between two of the wings, it meant they’d have access to a large population once the bells rang, but wouldn’t have alerted any classrooms just yet. As you know, the corridor has windows to the courtyard. Inside the doorway, by the stairs that connected it to the exit, Peter Jackson was stapling up posters for the school dance in January.”  
Jonny swallowed back still visualizing it.  
“He turned to follow the sound, and was shot three times. I don’t have forensics to confirm who shot him when, but one of the shots was a headshot and he died right away.” Venus looked him over, he was going pallid, “Then they walked into the main stretch. There were two clusters—Cherie and Charlie were putting up pictures at the far end away from your wing, and Amy was closer to your wing, half-way between their entry-point and the fire doors. Shooter 1 started to walk up to Charlie, then shot at him from the 20 foot mark, he missed and shot again, Charlie took off running for the end of the hall but got hit in the arm before he cleared it. Shooter 1 then shot the next person standing, from about the same distance—he hit Cherie’s leg and spilled her off the latter she was using to hang a banner. Shooter 2 was on Amy before Shooter 1 hit Charlie, and shot her once in the gut. She fell and started to drag herself to the lockers. They slowed down a little, probably relishing in their sadism thinking they were all stationary and under their control to finish off. Shooter 2 got closer to Amy and shot her again in the chest, and then after about 30 seconds, the head. He probably thought she’d die faster than she did. Shooter 2 then saw the fire doors close and went to investigate it. Shooter 1 was moving down the hall to likely finish off Charlie and Cherie when Shooter 2 let out a spray of fire. Then the firing stopped, that made Shooter 1 turn around. He saw Shooter 2 on the ground and sprinted up the hall leveling some shots. Three were off-target, one blew out a window, two hit the floor and ricocheted into the wall, and one hit you in the stomach. He was still half-way down the hall, you managed to push Shooter 2 out from the door frame and close the fire door. Then Shooter 1 went fishing in his pockets, he pulled what likely was an incendiary device, quite possibly a grenade. The police rolled up in response to shots fired and were much faster at getting into position to storm. They saw him fumbling with some device and waving a gun around, ordered him to drop it, he did not, so they shot him five times. He then dropped it, and about 40% of his blood onto the floor. It took the police longer to secure routes for student evacuation and evaluate the kids in the hall they saw, and then one of them noticed the blood from under the fire door and realized you’d been struck too.”  
Jonny nodded, the mental image filling in the pieces he remembered as they happened, how the shots had come off. He tried not to gag as he swallowed what felt like a mouthful of cotton to chase back the lump in his throat.  
“…Amy and Peter were in the open at the wrong time. Same with the hall monitor, Jonny. Their dying wasn’t particularly avoidable. But Charlie and Cherie are alive because of you. They probably trained themselves to finish off each person with a headshot to make sure.”  
“…W… where’re the others anyway?”  
“Hmm? Oh, I think pops is talking with the detectives to see if they really need to talk to you any further, and Race saw some reporters who were trying to sneak in to the ward. Dad’s with Jessie and Hadji…” Venus looked out the window, it was dark outside, she hadn’t even realized so much of the day had wicked away. “Do you need any pain medicine right now?”  
Jonny shook his head, lost in reverie. “…No, I want to stay awake. You said the guys would be by tonight? When?”  
“About 8, probably, maybe earlier.” Venus looked out the window, she couldn’t see the candles yet, but knew they had to have started. “I’m quite loquacious when bored, want me to keep going? Maybe a more cheery topic?”  
“Knock yourself out, it’s not like I have anything else to do.”  
Venus stood up with a bounce, “Perfect! But you don’t need to just lie there like a lump. I can get you sitting up at least.”  
Jonny gave his sister an indulgent look while she played with the remote and raised the top half of his bed to a 30° raised angle.  
“Can you see through the window?”  
“…Huh? Yeah. Why?”  
Venus shrugged, “It’s gotta be a better view than ceiling tiles.”  
“And everyone thinks I’m the family optimist.”  
“Well you’re sure as shit more cheerful than me.”  
That earned her another laugh, she glanced back at him, with his eyes on the window, she went over to the cards and picked up a pre-sorted stack.  
She started to pull them out. “Wait… what’s that?” Jonny asked, his view hit the end of the street where the first few glittering candles started to peek through.  
“…Looks like a candle being held to the sun.” Venus said absently.  
“…A what?”  
Venus smirked, “Jonny- you’re one of the craziest, bravest people I’ve ever met. You saved all of us, you’re amazing, get well soon, we miss you. – TK.”  
Jonny turned to look at her.  
“Oh, I’m serious, the view out the window’s way better, Jonny.” Venus smiled warmly, pulling the next card, “Thank you for doing what you did, you saved my and my sister’s life. Forever your friend, Charlie Felds.”  
She shuffled to another card, “Jonny, Your pencil mark was started on C for that question. You’re the first student who’s ever gotten a perfect score on my mid-term in my 15 year career. Good luck on the final, and speedy recovery. Mrs. Hanes.”  
Jonny’s eyes welled.  
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you for surviving. – Olsen Twin #1.” Venus flipped to the next card, “Bond girls don’t quit, Olsen Twin 2.”  
The sound of an ugly laugh made Venus look up at her brother, the view from the street was amazing, a sea of flickering lights of a thousand people poured from half-way down the street.  
“John, your maturity and strength know no bounds, I only wish I’d have been able to reach you, my door is always open to you. Mr. Stevens. Fuck, that guy’s a grade A douche, isn’t he?”  
Jonny nodded in agreement, a goofy smile on his face as he cried quietly.  
“Let me read a few, scout.”  
Venus handed Dr. Quest a stack and took a step back, the handoff seamless.  
“Jonny, How you don’t see that you are a truly inspirational, amazing young man is just a mark of how truly humble you are. It has been my utmost pleasure to get to know you over this brief time, and I am honored that I will continue to get to know you over many, many years to come. When you are ready to pursue your dreams of embassy work, I’d be honored to be a reference to you, believe it or not, that actually counts for something, Darren.”  
“…My dad’s out there with Jessie and Hadji… So’re your entourage. I hear there’s a few Bond Girl signs in the crowd if you can find them.” Venus chimed, she shoulder-nudged the red haired patriarch to have him continue with the next card.  
“What you did in putting yourself before others is nothing unknown to those of us closest to you, I am so thankful that your training served you well in saving two of the most important people in my life. With love, Hadji.”  
Jonny blushed at his brother’s filial words, his eyes riveted to the view outside, he pulled away if only to look at his dad and the piles upon piles of cards.  
“Quest, it’s kick ass and take no prisoners… No prisoners. Work on that piece next time. JB.”  
Jonny rolled his eyes at that.  
“Jonny, I lost my son in this shooting, and because of your actions, only two families had to go through that pain. Peter would be so glad to know you survived. – The Jacksons.”  
Thickly, Jonny tried to swallow.  
Venus picked up where the red-head stopped, “Jonny, Few people will ever truly appreciate the horrors that occurred on the 16th of December. While I could have lost my only son, because of your mercy and compassion, his spree of violence was halted before he could fulfill his confused, hateful fantasy and may even have a chance at redemption. While there are no words I can offer to assuage the pain my boy has put you through, I am so, so very happy you lived and that you stopped my son before he could carry through with his evil plan. Mr. Smith.”  
He turned to look at his sister, shocked.  
“…Jonny, will you go to the winter dance with me—Cherie Felds.” Venus held the card to her lips, “Personally, I think that’s not really a thing you put in a card, what do you think, pops?”  
“No, no I think that really is the thing to ask in person, Cherie, what do you think?”  
Jonny almost sat board-straight, he grimaced as he rolled back. “…Cherie?”  
“Hi Jonny…” The mousy girl said as a nurse wheeled her in, she beamed a bright smile as she looked on at the street-side view of the vigil. “…I’m kind of shy… but… well, would you? Is it okay that I asked?”  
“Hey… no, that’s… uh… yeah! Yeah, I’d be thrilled to go with you. You’ll probably dance circles around me, even if we’re both still in wheelchairs.” Jonny smiled, “How are you?”  
The girl blushed, “…It’s day by day. How are you?”  
“…Same.” Jonny’s eyes fell as he blushed back, out of politeness, he returned his gaze to her eyes, “Cherie, I’m really, really glad both you and your brother pulled through, too.”  
“Yeah, same here!” She giggled, “Charlie’s at the front of the parade… you can see him, right?” She touched the nurse’s hand to guide her further into the room. She reached a long arm to point to where her brother stood. To his side was a silver and gold letter-foiled sign that read ‘Bullet-Proof.’  
Jonny groaned, he could tell TK was next to him, and that that’d likely make the evening news with how many press vans were outside.  
“So that’s why they’ll get here at 8, huh?”  
“Just about, yeah.” Venus smirked. “Well, I think I need to head to that pop-up café and see about getting myself some cocoa.”  
“That’s a lovely idea, Jonny, will you be alright if we both step out?” Benton asked his son who was growing more and more red by the passing second.  
“…Uh, yeah, I’ll manage.” He said coolly, his eyes flitted back to Cherie’s green eyes. “Cherie, did you want to watch the rest from here?”  
“Sure!” the girl wheeled closer to his bedside as both watched the street swarm with warm-white lights.  
-End.-


End file.
